Harry Potter and the Web of Lies
by LGreymark
Summary: Harry and Hermione return to Hogwarts for their fifth year, Voldemort is out and about, undead stalk the lands, and magic has never been more terrifying. Who can they trust? Is Hogwarts even safe anymore? HHr, smut in later chaps. (Romance/Tragedy/Adventure). Part two of The Deception series
1. Moving on

AN: Standard disclaimer everyone, JKR owns the toys, we just get to play with them.

AN2: This is the next instalment of The Deception series (Part two to be precise) It begins with Harry Potter and the World of Deceit, which can be found on my profile. A lengthy disclaimer and important chunk of story sits there that you really should read before this one as many of the same warnings apply, I will place appropriate warnings at the start of each chapter for anything particularly grim or steamy so that you can avoid it if you wish. Now, without further ado, let it be my proud pleasure to present Part Two of The Deception series; Harry Potter and the Web of Lies.

-:-

Chapter One: Moving on

Bone white fingers, elongated beyond the length of normal proportion, wrap tensely around the stem of a crystal goblet. A thick aroma of wine exudes from the crimson liquid within and it is unhurriedly brought to pale lips, staining them with its passing. The sound of swallowing is audible in the gloom of the manor house.

Naught but a moment later the goblet is placed back to its resting place atop a small marble topped side table with an equally audible clinking sound. Then a horrific sound fills the air, obliterating the nerve wracking silence with abrupt abandon.

"You failed Us those many years ago Severus."

The voice was fear itself, layers of discordant tones and timbres overlapping in disharmonious cacophony. In truth it would be more accurate to call the voice a choir, as several distinct voices can be heard, over talking one another and jockeying for position in volume and audibility. At present the tone that held sway over the dissident mass was a silky tone filled with barely controlled disgust and disdain.

"And because of it We are uninformed, cripplingly so. We have heard rumour, that the information you gave Us, is incomplete. The truth of it lies within the bowels of our beloved Ministry, here on the very shores of England."

The pale complexion of the sallow faced man before the dais flushed with supressed emotion. Severus Snape did not speak however, to do so now would invite a fate worse than death.

"We will forgive you this once, our most loyal of servants, because despite Our plans being shattered so long ago, by this unfortunate circumstance. You are not to blame. You were removed from the tavern within which you acquired this information before it could be completely divulged. Are We not correct?"

A single sentence, dripping with subservience, fell from Snape's lips.

"You are precisely correct my Lord."

Voldemort's face split into a thin smile, the few teeth that showing are pointed and when he opens his mouth again to speak, many other teeth can be seen in concentric circles like those of a shark disappearing into his mouth and three tongues, pink and thin, forked at the ends like snakes, flicker in the gloom.

"As it should be, and shall always be. Avery."

The spoken summons was like a death knell to the Death Eater standing by the door. The thin man nervously replied, but with as much spine as he could muster.

"Yes my Lord?"

Voldemort's smile returned.

"Bring me Lucius, I have a goal for him, the Minister's pockets are a little empty right now."

-:-

Feet pounding on pavement, two sets of them, disturb the morning silence in Oxford's suburbs. The feet belong to two young people, a girl and a boy, or more specifically a witch and a wizard. Even more specifically they belong to Hermione Granger and Harry Potter. In the intervening terms between the summers of this year and the year past, Harry's body had undergone a winter burst of growth, powerful but wiry muscles, clear skin that Harry refused to allow acne to grow on by using a simple charm. Equally well shaven skin, although that was more Dan's choice than anything else, as the older man insisted that Harry used a razor until he went back to school as a rite of passage into young adulthood.

His hair, which before was unruly and would refuse to stay flat, is now sleek and straight, Hermione making sure to have him wash it properly in the shower. It was cut short in a stylish shape that Harry knew he would have to abandon when he got back to Hogwarts, the students would give him far too much grief about the hairdo for it to be worth it. Lastly he is wearing a pair of well fitted running shorts and a tight singlet apt to display his burgeoning chest muscles and abs that he only wore for Hermione's benefit. Lastly his eyes, before a vivid poisonous green, are now a softer shade of dark forest green and above them, a clear forehead free of his trademark scar.

All in all this young man was very much different to the one who roamed these streets last year, less of a boy, now more a man. His companion, a somewhat plain brunette with sparkling eyes, was much the same. She had a softer body, more curves instead of planes, but she was equally sturdy, thick thighs and calf muscles built from years of stairs and running. Slightly broader shoulders than you would normally see on a girl, developed from carrying bags filled with heavy tomes. Her hair, naturally very bushy, was now sleek and wavy thanks to a charmed hairbrush given to her by a friend.

She was not the most striking of girls, a little on the tomboyish side for most given her pastime of jogging in the morning and lifting surprising amounts of weight in her book bag on a daily basis. But feminine nonetheless, usually her more boyish attributes would bother her, but her man, her wizard, had shown her time and time again that she was beautiful, sexy even, and that was enough for her.

These two young teens ran in silence together, they rarely had need for words anymore when they were alone; thoughts ran between them like water in a cake tin. Ideas, emotions, memories, hopes and dreams, all shared with no effort whatsoever between the magical couple. How is this possible? It's possible because of a magical bond linking their minds, their magic, and their very souls: Born of love and compassion, built from trust and hard work, and strengthened with constant use.

A slightly haunted look was about the two teens, eyes set, jaws clenched as they force air from between resistant lips with each stride. Just a week past Harry had been battling for his life in a graveyard with his fated nemesis. Furthermore, on the shoulders of the young teens was the weight of prophecy:

_Born of the sixth month, on the fifth sixth day;  
Against the Dark Lord a single man will rise.  
His victory shrouded his defeat unclear;  
Strength of purpose shall carry him through.  
Born of the light, raised in darkness, not knowing his own name;  
His name will be legend, his actions will be myth.  
A power which the dark lord knows not;  
Born of suffering and companionship:  
That shall be the Dark Lord's bane._

The words hung around them like a pall of darkness, there was no doubt that Harry was the man mentioned by the prophecy; the various lines seemed to be written from his life. The power mentioned was a mystery to them but what really got their attention, or Hermione's at least, was the concept that his victory over Voldemort was by no means a certain thing. When Dumbledore had told them the details of the prophecy that Valmortis had mentioned during Harry's captivity, the both of them had been stunned to silence for the longest time, and Harry himself had been detached in a way that made Hermione truly scared for her soul mate.

The two teens halted abruptly and leaned back against the low brick wall beside them catching their breath. Hermione looked up at the tall peaked gable of her family's tutor style Oxford townhouse and smiled, there in the window of the top floor she could see her mother sitting on the window seat looking out over the street, a book held loosely in her hands. She shared a wave with Emma Granger as Harry caught his breath fully and enveloped her in a sweaty hug from behind. His soft slightly husky voice permeated through her whole being like the warmth of a heater on a bitter winter's day.

"Enough of all this grim thought sweetheart, let's just enjoy what time we have before Mad Eye starts bashing our skulls around shall we?"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh softly as she leaned back against him, still breathing heavily and laid her hands atop his where they rested, wrapped around her waist. She felt a tingle as his lips pressed a small feathery kiss to the crook of her neck.

"That sounds lovely, come on you, we need a shower."

-:-

Clean and recovered from their morning run the two meandered downstairs whereupon Harry began shuffling around the kitchen cooking a batch of eggs and breakfast sausages for himself and Dan when the older male finally came down. While they were cooking he slid Hermione's usual cereal in front of her and smiled at his adopted mother as she came downstairs.

"Hi mum, tea for you? Or do you want to try coffee?"

Harry grinned cheekily, it was such a fantastic feeling to have a family to interact with that he often found himself getting lost in it. That Emma swept into the kitchen herself to begin making a morning tea didn't surprise him at all, despite the small size of the kitchen Harry and Emma seemed to be able to move around each other comfortably to get things done, more out of practise than anything else as neither allowed the other to do all of the cooking themselves. Emma's reply was equally humorous to Harry's cheeky question.

"Now I know Daniel has gone round the twist with that horrible drink but you can't expect madness from all of us Harry, it's just not done."

Harry grinned into his own cup of tea that was proffered to him by Emma. After a long draw on the hot beverage he set it down on the counter top to continue cooking his and his adopted father's breakfast.

"Of course not mum, but to be fair, we never expected dad to lose his marbles either. Where's the harm in checking you still having yours?"

"What's this about me losing my marbles? I assure you they're around here somewhere."

Harry turned to see Dan Granger walking down the stairs rotating his neck until an audible 'pop' was heard. Hermione's happy laugh was enough to stretch Harry's grin to almost painful proportions.  
The family sat down to breakfast, Harry and Dan munching away at their protein rich diet, Hermione and Emma both opting for lighter fare. Harry knew that Hermione disapproved of his choice of breakfasts, claiming it was too heavy for a morning meal. But he never felt ready for the day until he'd indulged in his one culinary vice.

He stayed away from sweets, never having a chance to develop a taste for them as a child, and as a general rule he ate well. Hermione made sure he ate plenty of fruits and vegetables, the grangers had a small herb garden in their back yard and Harry had taken to putting all manner of herbs into his cooking. They ate mainly chicken and fish as their evening meals, occasionally lamb or beef but very rarely pork. Crisps and biscuits were totally absent from their diets, Emma and Dan often had biscuits in the house for having with their evening tea/coffee, but the teens shied away from them so as to avoid missing them at Hogwarts.

All in all Harry ate well so he steadfastly held to his tradition of a heavy British breakfast, often adding a muffin (English muffin mind) or crumpet into the mix with some jam and butter. He never told the elder Grangers, but Hermione knew full well, that one of the major reasons why he stuck to it was that for several years at the Dursleys he had cooked similar fare for breakfast every morning and never seen a bite of it to eat. In the back of his mind this small rebellion was the only thing he allowed to remind him of his formative years.

As the family of four finished up their meal and Emma swept the plates away before Harry could even get up to move Dan broached the topic that had come up over dinner the night before.

"So tell me about this teacher who's going to be giving you two summer instruction."

-:-

Said teacher was Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody, his unique moniker coming from an equally unique electric blue magical eye that could move independent of his other, normal, eye and even see through walls and other solid objects. It was renowned for staring straight through the back of his head or whizzing about sickeningly. The rest of his body was just as grizzled, shoulder length dirty brown hair, enough scars to turn his face and upper body into a sick tapestry of cuts and lacerations and topping the whole image off, a peg leg in the shape of a clawed foot, hewn and carved from a single piece of oak.

Accompanying his fearsome appearance is a fearsome reputation; world renowned auror, soldier of the light against Voldemort's first rise, and paranoid to boot. All of this of course makes him the ideal person to teach two young magical prodigies and craft them into true warriors. Never mind the fact that said prodigies are only just scraping into their mid-teens and living in Muggle London.

Already a letter had come from this tutor, detailing exercises, magical ones, which the teens could to prepare themselves for the real training ahead. How they were going to achieve the 'real training' amidst the statue of secrecy was anyone's guess. But practise they did, and bewilderingly, they saw progress. Already powerful spell casters and sorcerers the pair find themselves reaching for their magic less and less and having it leap to their hands more and more, and yes, literally to their hands, previously Harry was the only one between them who could practise any form of wandless magic, and even then it was limited to levitation, lights and so forth.

Now Hermione was at that point, and Harry was already transfiguring things wandlessly much to their bemusement. After mailing Mad Eye about this phenomenon they got a two word response; 'Keep going', and so the first two weeks of the holidays passed in something of a blissful haze of relaxation, training and family communion. It was tinged with sadness however, the anniversary of Ron's death was fast approaching and the two felt the keen bite of sorrow at the memory of his passing.

-:-

Harry woke in pitch darkness to the sound of screaming. Light burst from his hands like human flashlights and the young man looked around frantically only to bump into Hermione beside him, curled into the foetal position and uttering the keening wails that were reverberating off the walls. Anguished he swept his beloved into his arms, her mind kept him out even as he tried to comfort her emotionally. Stymied he resorted to doing that which most boyfriends have to, holding on and whispering as many comforting words as he could as quickly and calmly as possible.

Her body was tense, like all of her muscles had seized and her eyes were clenched shut, tears streaming down her porcelain cheeks. The door to their room burst open to reveal Emma and Dan in their nightclothes, Emma moved forwards quickly to collect the two of them in her own embrace. She and Harry kept talking to Hermione and eventually the young witch calmed down and collapsed into their arms. Her previously tense muscles fell limp, like she was a ragdoll, and Harry took her full weight in his arms as Emma backed up a bit to brush Hermione's hair from her face and gently ask her.

"What's wrong honey? Are you okay?"

Hermione's eyes remained panicked however and she twisted about in Harry's arms, searching blindly for something. Harry loosened his grip slightly and suddenly she was there, her face inches from his, her eyes boring into his own like two miniature lasers designed to pierce to his very soul. Her gaze softened instantly and her hand came up to his cheek, touching him intimately and a handful of words rolled from her cracked lips.

"I thought I'd lost you, the dream… It was so real."

Harry let his mind sweep over hers, obliterating the barriers she had thrown up accidentally and flooding through her being like a warm wave of affection. He was dimly aware of Dan motioning Emma out of the room as he took the time to actually open his mouth, searching for words to comfort her with as he was desperately trying to convey the same with his mind. He started slightly when she laid a slim finger to his lips.

"Hush, I know what you're trying to say love, you're here, you'll always be here, you love me."

Harry nodded numbly and brought a hand up to take hers, clutching it tenderly and kissing the finger.

"Maybe you do know, but I need to say this, actually put it into words. I love you Hermione. I will always love you and there isn't a damn thing on this earth that can take me away from you. Not permanently, I'll always come home to you my love. You mean too much to me for me not to."

He watched as, unbidden, tears welled up in her eyes and spilled forth over her cheeks like a pair of miniature streams rolling over the smoothest of unblemished plains. Tenderly he reached up and brushed the tears away with his hand, rubbing the moisture out between his thumb and forefinger.

How long they stayed like that Harry would never know, staring into each other's eyes, forging anew the connections between them and tempering them in the pain of their recent ordeal. They were broken still, but slowly, they were healing.

-:-

The nightmares continued for weeks, after the third night Emma stopped rushing into the room, trusting Harry to look after her daughter like he had so many times before. It didn't hurt that Hermione barely noticed when Emma was in the room and had eyes only for her beloved.

As those weeks passed their training surged ahead, soon Harry was cooking with wandless charms as practise in fine control. Hermione was writing her assignments with it, and between them they had begun to truly plumb the depths of their bond; the deepest and most private parts of their beings they shared with one another, things normally kept separate through habit or fear.

Then, a month after they had arrived back from Hogwarts, they received a thin envelope sealed with a small dab of sealing wax imprinted with a strange crest. A phoenix surmounted over a pair of crossed wands superimposed on a circular background. The letter arrived by the usual black and brown owl at breakfast one morning and it was dropped squarely between the two young teens.

Hermione got to it first, as was her habit, and nervously broke the seal. The letter inside was something of a shock;

_To Mr Harry James Potter and Miss Hermione Jane Granger_

_I trust your summer has, thus far, been a restful one. Moreover I hope dearly that you have begun to recover from the ordeal suffered so recently by you both. I understand that Alastor has been giving you private, if stunted, instruction during the summer break and he has asked me if I would permit you to join us of the Order of the Phoenix here at our London Headquarters for further instruction._

_We shall discuss more upon your arrival, and to this end, should you be willing, a representative party will meet the both of you at your Oxford residence at five o'clock in the evening on the ninth of July, (A Saturday unless I'm very much mistaken). You will be returned to your residence no later than nine o'clock that same evening to discuss between yourselves any decisions that you may need to make and will be given the opportunity to meet here with us at our headquarters once again for any subsequent training you may require._

_Yours' sincerely _

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (And assorted titles too tedious to mention in such a correspondence)_

_P.S. Please RSVP at your earliest convenience. _

Hermione looked across at Harry, heart thudding in her chest with bewildered eyes. Judging by his 'did pigs just fly?' expression he'd read the letter through her eyes. Here was Dumbledore, not only acknowledging Hermione enough to suggest she not only accompanies Harry, but is recognised equally by the missive, but he was also offering to provide venue for the pair to train in during the summer break. It was so out of character for the aging Headmaster to include them in any kind of plan that they were both a little flabbergasted.

The mention of decisions needing to be made weighed on Hermione's mind like an iron shroud designed to cripple her thought process with errant strays to be chased. But despite that the offer was clear, the insinuation was clear; this wasn't a letter to a student or to a subordinate, this was a letter to a colleague, an equal. Two equals to be precise and it blew Hermione away with the sheer novelty of it. There was no disagreement between them, they were going, but what would they find there beyond the promised training? And who were the Order of the Phoenix?

-:-

The ninth arrived like any other day in the middle of July, hot, windless, and muggy. The two teens spent the meat of the day with their parents, going over what Harry and Hermione would need for the coming term, things they could purchase ahead of time. Few details were shared; Emma and Dan wouldn't have understood much of it anyway, not yet at any rate. Harry and Hermione had been doing their best to give their parents a crash course on magic in the last couple of weeks, going over basic spellcasting, sorcery, this that could be easily explained or had parallels in the mundane world, household charms for example.

As it was the two adults knew more than most parents of first generation witches and wizards and they were handling the discussion well. Discussions of new robes and textbooks were easy enough to get their heads around, quills and parchment were just like pens and paper, potions ingredients were a little trickier, but they were totally lost at runestones and lodestones, though arithmantic tables were similar enough to maths texts to be understood.

Lodestones in particular were fascinating to them once they understood the basic principle; semiprecious gems like quartz and moonstone were able to hold great amounts of pure magical energy, like batteries. They could then be carved with spell runes to give them a purpose, and then activated with the tap of a wand. The imitation gas lamps in the magical world, as well as most plumbing, were controlled by these tiny devices charged with potent spells. They had to be recharged semi regularly depending on their frequency of use and the amount of power required to charge their spells, but all served a purpose.

The two teens had begun to learn of their usefulness at the end of the previous term, Harry in particular was excited about their use as their uses were nearly infinite with enough creativity, and between him and Hermione he was the more creative, if only by a hair. Hermione was more interested in optimising existing functions, whereas Harry was something of an inventor, constantly trying to find new utilities from combining different spells together.

It first manifested in his obsession with creating new sorcels the year previous; experimenting with different wand movements and focuses was something of a hobby, and the small magically powered mechanical spider that was his new constant companion was another example of his craft. Hermione often commented that if he spent as much time studying as he did tinkering he would probably have a better academic record than even her, but as he succinctly pointed out that was one of the key, and treasured, differences between them; Hermione would forever be the one more interested in the future, the potential for them, and Harry would be the one to bring her back to the present, to keep her grounded in the here and now.

-:-

As five o'clock approached the Granger residence was wound tight with anticipation; Harry and Hermione anxious to find out more about the mysterious Order of the Phoenix, and their parents concerned for the safety of their daughter and adopted son. The tolling of the hour found the three Grangers and one Potter male seated around the kitchen table, conversing in low, quiet tones. Despite the sun still shining brightly in the sky the occasion seemed to warrant a hushed demeanour and the household was nearly still with anticipation.

The grandfather clock in the main hallway of the two storey house tolled the hour and promptly, as if waiting for said timepiece to single its arrival, a sleek, but dated, forest green hatchback pulled into the driveway. Harry flicked his thoughts at his bond-mate and nodded at the window.

"They're here."

None of the four moved, as a tall reedy man and a much younger woman with eye wateringly pink hair, both wearing long coats that could easily pass for mundane clothing, stepped out of the car and moved towards the front door. Harry's eyes widened slightly and his familiar crooked grin slipped over his features as he recognised the man. Standing from the table, Hermione close behind he favoured Dan and Emma with a happy grin before darting down the hall to swing open the front door and greet Remus Lupin with a grin and a quick, manly hug.

"Remus, it's been too long, how are you?"

The older man gave Harry a wan smile before answering

"Better, much better than usual thanks to a few good friends, and yourself? I understand I should be congratulating you about your bond with Hermione."

Harry blushed crimson, it was the first time an adult from the wizarding world had openly acknowledged his and Hermione's relationship in such a positive light and he was unsure how to take the praise. Thankfully Remus seemed to understand and simply clapped a hand to his shoulder and continued talking.

"You've got so much of your father in you now. I haven't seen that hair since my third year; I'd forgotten what it looked like."

Harry frowned as they headed inside, some things still didn't add up about the way people had reacted to him in the past; comments like 'you have your mother's eyes' seemed so ridiculous now that he knew that it was only now that he truly shared that trait with his late mother. Hermione soothed him with her thoughts as they walked with the idea that perhaps it had just been a long time since they saw her eyes and got confused, that coupled with a bit of wishful thinking could easily account for the discrepancies.

-:-

As the two men caught up Hermione looked over Remus and his companion, who was introduced only as 'Tonks'. Remus in particular was looking better than she last saw him, someone had stuffed him into some decent clothes for once and his face had less of the haggard appearance that it usually bore. There was still the same darkness behind his eyes though, the kind of darkness that threatened something violent if pushed too far.

Tonks on the other hand seemed to be the most enthusiastic bubbly person Hermione had ever met, considering she had shared a dorm with Lavender for four years that was saying something, although perhaps Hermione was desensitised to Lavender's personality through overexposure. Either way Hermione couldn't imagine two people more different, Remus' rather staid laid back demeanour as opposed to Tonks' extremely extroverted personality. They seemed to get on well enough though.

The four of them headed indoors whereupon the two teens introduced Remus and Tonks to the Granger parents. They talked briefly over tea before Remus indicated that they should be getting a move on. After giving her mum a quick hug goodbye and her dad a kiss on the cheek she whipped up to their room to grab a notebook and a pen so she could take notes, between her and Harry they both loathed using parchment outside of Hogwarts, it was just so inconvenient to lug around.

When she got back down it was to the three travellers waiting for her in the entranceway of the Oxford townhouse. Harry held his hand out to her as she joined them and she took it with a smile, comfortably lacing her fingers with his. Looking up into those comfortingly warm green eyes she mentally sighed as Harry's thoughts bumped up against her own, questioning her happy grin curiously. In reply she simply tossed her emotions at him, happiness at seeing Remus again, excitement about where they were going, genuine enjoyment after meeting Tonks, and the general happiness about being with him that never seemed to abate.

She couldn't help but grin even more widely as a happy smile washed over the curious expression on his face, obliterating it and leaving only his crooked grin behind. She did so love that grin. Remus' words brought her back down to earth.

"All right then Harry, Hermione, we've a shorter trip ahead than you're expecting, get in and we can get started."

Hermione beamed at Harry as he held the door for her before going around to the other side. She never would have thought that she would be interested in being doted on like Harry did for her. She was a strong person in her own right and had been the one to support harry through many troubles. But Harry's constant gentlemanly approach to her took her off guard, made her blush and smile, brought out the feminine side she never knew she had. If she had to admit to herself she loved it, loved not having to be the strong one in their relationship all the time. Oh sure, she was there for Harry when he needed her, but at the same time it gave her a rush of feminine pride and sense of beauty when Harry treated her with such respect and adoration.

Harry slid into the seat beside her and laced their fingers together, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the back of her hand. She glanced at him and realized that he wasn't watching her, or paying any especial attention to her, it was just second nature to him to take her hand, to touch her and be intimate with her. Fighting back a happy sigh she looked forwards to see Remus fiddling with a variety of knobs on the dashboard. When he finally turned the key in the ignition she knew this was no ordinary car. She could feel the engine humming beneath them but there was no sound. The gearshift had altogether too many selections, and there were only two pedals… in an obviously manual transmission.

But it was the small device sitting above the rear-view mirror that caught Hermione's attention.

"Is that a time turner?"

She saw a ghost of a smile flicker on the sides of Remus's moth as he twisted in his seat, handing her a piece of parchment.

"Read that, both of you."

She looked down at the paper and read a single line of text in Albus Dumbledore's elegant spidery handwriting.

'The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at number twelve Grimmauld Place London.'

Uncomprehending she passed the paper to Harry who also read the note before handing it back to Remus, who promptly burned it with smokeless magical fire. He checked that they had their seat belts on, then reached up and spun the small hourglass four times. Abruptly the world shifted through the glass; it appeared to melt, colours running amongst each other before solidifying into easily recognisable patterns and shapes. The streets of Oxford dissolved and were replaced with the typical roads of London, houses disappeared only to be replaced with others, and the sky brightened considerably, even considering the light smog.

"What on earth just happened?"

The words slipped from her lips before she could contain them and she blushed crimson at her forthrightness, but she could feel Harry's agreement coming across their bond. Remus's reply was typically dry. She noted that Tonks was now nowhere to be seen.

"Open the door Hermione."

Nervously she stepped out of the car onto a concrete driveway. The house to her right abutted onto two others, one on each side and the unkempt garden in front of it looked like it hadn't been cared for in decades. She felt harry take her hand and looked at him questioningly, he simply shook his head, sharing his feelings of bewilderment. His strong voice rang out in the night air.

"Where are we Remus? How did we get here?"

Wearing that self-same wan smile that so often adorned his face Remus simply gestured them indoors, speaking softly in the darkness.

"We're somewhere safe, but we should talk indoors, this place is being watched."

Nodding Harry headed indoors and Hermione could only follow as he gently tugged her along behind him, her spiral bound notebook and pen shrunk and in her back pocket, wand in hand and a defensive sorcel running through her mind ready to snap off if needed. She trusted Remus, but one could never be too trusting. She was comforted by the fact that Harry's wand was resting in his easy grip; the fact that that grip was a duellist's hold not a charms position comforted her further. If this went pear shaped and things weren't as they seemed Harry wouldn't be fighting with his kid gloves on.

The hallways was somewhat grim to behold as they moved through the now open door, snake heads were everywhere, on the banisters, the door handles, the candlestick holders, even the curtain rails were serpent headed. More gruesome still were a line of particularly mummified house elf heads that lined the staircase, the whole situation invited hushed voices and a proclivity for cautiousness. Hermione noted from the corner of her eye that Harry was giving Remus a raised eyebrows questioning look. Would they have to go on the offensive in a moment?

Fortunately it wasn't necessary as a tall black haired man came out of one of the doors and, upon seeing Harry, swept him into a joyous embrace. Harry's hushed exclamation reassured Hermione more than anything, despite her having recognised the man.

"Sirius, oh it's good to see you, you're looking healthier!"

"Good to see you too Harry, we'll catch up later, for now how about you reintroduce me to this lovely young woman."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry's Godfather

"You know full well who I am Sirius, but by god if it isn't good to see you with some flesh on those bones of yours."

She grinned as she stepped forwards into the older man's embrace for a brief hug before backing away, she had a bit of a soft spot for Harry's Godfather, not a romantic one mind, but he was the last of Harry's guardians in the magical world, and he and Remus were Harry's last remaining connections with his family. Aside from that it was hard not to like the happily grinning man who had such an honest face, the shadow of Azkaban still lurked behind his eyes but Hermione knew that wouldn't last forever; he would be whole soon enough.

She felt Harry's arms slip around her waist and she twisted her head and smiled at her lover before reaching behind her to cup his cheek, Harry's slightly throaty voice made her beam.

"Thing is Sirius, as I'm sure you've heard she's a bit more than just my friend now. Sirius I'd like you to meet Hermione Granger, my girlfriend and bond mate."

The older man's face moved from shock to happiness, then to mischievous annoyance

"Moony, now why wouldn't you tell me about this hmm?"

Hermione felt herself being turned as Harry pivoted on the spot to keep both the older men in view just as Tonks was getting the door closed with all its associated locks. Remus' face was as equally crafty as Sirius'.

"Because _Padfoot_ I was rather looking forward to seeing how you'd react to it, and I dear say you didn't disappoint me."

Hermione felt Harry's chest shifting behind her as he stifled a laugh. Sirius' eyebrow rose comically before the shaggy haired man shrugged and turned back to the teens who were now both eyeing him with amusement.

"Regardless, congratulations you two, I knew you'd be good for each other the moment I laid eyes on you. This can't have happened long after we parted then?"

Hermione started slightly in Harry's arms; of course, it had really only a bit more than a month after they had parted ways from Sirius atop the astronomy tower that she and Harry had had their first kiss. Grinning, she nodded to the man,

"A bit more than a month later we got together, I'd say a couple of months after that our bond started forming, maybe even sooner."

Sirius looked right chuffed about that for some reason; the answer to the mystery was forthcoming as he buffed his nails on his shirt

"See Moony? Told you the old boy was still good luck"

Hermione snickered as Remus just rolled his eyes before turning to her.

"Didn't you want to know how we got here? And where we are?"

Harry answered for them both

"I think we'd like to know that very much, is there anywhere we can sit down and talk?"

Hermione's eye glanced to Sirius as he interjected

"Yeah, come on into the dining room we can talk before everyone else arrives."

-:-

Harry had a riot of emotions running through him, the twin wonders of seeing both Remus and Sirius again after over a year of their absences, the shock of however they had travelled to London so quickly, the interest in the strange house they were in, for the place was undoubtedly a house. All of this was rushing through the young man's mind like so much wildfire, he could feel Hermione's emotions colliding with his own and mingling, and to his relief he then felt her drawing them away, locking both of their emotions away for a time so that Harry could concentrate.

She was so much better at shoving emotions to the side to get whatever needed to be done, done, whereas Harry was far more ruled by his passions, and so they had figured out how to remove Harry's turmoil for a while in times of stress so that he could do what needed to be done, whatever that was at the time. It was, in part, a defence against the kind of trauma he had suffered at the graveyard, more than that though it was to make sure that if Hermione was injured, Harry would be able to continue fighting, to make sure they were both safe before going to her.

Initially Harry had loathed the idea of separating himself from his emotions to her; it was abhorrent to him to even contemplate. But over time, and with much coaxing from Hermione, he eventually agreed that it would be a good skill for them to have. So it was that Hermione had practised with him, locking individual emotions of his away behind the walls they could put up between one another. It was arduous work and they had not yet progressed far, as it was Harry could still feel shadows of those emotions roiling through him, the separation wasn't perfect. Part of him wanted it to stay that way; he still never wanted to be totally emotionless, ever.

As they left the hall and moved into a room that appeared to be a cross between a dining room and a kitchen Harry noted that the two older wizards were talking merrily between one another, completely at ease in the strange house. He wasn't yet sure whether that put him more at ease or less. Regardless they all ended up sitting around the large dining table and Sirius served them all tea. Once they were settled Hermione finally asked;

"So what on earth was in that car of yours Remus? How did you manage to transport us from Oxford to London instantly, inside a car no less? "

Harry watched Remus carefully as he shifted in his seat looking for the first time, slightly eager.

"Well as you so correctly guessed Hermione, that was a time turner, have you looked at one of the many clocks around the place since we got here? It's a bit past half past one and, in a few minutes more, myself and Tonks will apparate into the front garden, then drive the car to Oxford."

He heard a muffled gasp of understanding sound from his left and Harry turned his head slightly so that he could watch his witch. He could see the gears turning inside her head. His own mind was clumsily snapping the pieces of the puzzle together but it felt like there was one vital piece missing.

"So we've gone back in time, four hours to be precise, and not only that, but only us three, Tonks was left behind. Furthermore, not only have we gone back in time but we've moved locations. Most of it I can understand, the last bit though, that's bothering me."

Remus laid his hands flat on the table, peering at the wood between his splayed fingers.

"The car is a bit of a masterpiece really. Dumbledore, Sirius and I have been working on it all year. It has a great number of modifications, the major one of course being that time turner. Now I'm sure you know, after your third year and everything involved with that, that time turners, the regular kind at least, keep you within a fixed location on the earth and then take you back in chronological time. The magic is tricky enough keeping the traveller in place on a rock that's moving so rapidly through space and _spinning_, normally if you were to travel back in time an hour without all the extra magic holding you in place you'd end up in the middle of space the planet is travelling that quickly; either that or in the core of the earth if you were really unlucky."

He took a breath and Harry had to smile at the way he could see Remus organising his thoughts, as if ticking them off on the fingers displayed before him.

"The kind of magic involved in this is tricky enough without having to try and incorporate spacial shifting into the equation. Question, how do you normally take multiple people back in time?"

Harry grinned in spite of himself, his sense of humour still intact and held by himself rather than his bond mate. He and Hermione both knew that answer. But of course, Hermione answered the question.

"You place a length of continuous material, either a string or a chain that is also connected to the time turner, around the neck or wrist of each person participating."

Remus nodded and tapped one of his fingers on the table

"Exactly, and tell me, what did I make sure you had on before we travelled?"

Hermione gasped again and Harry's grin grew wider as he beat his girlfriend to the punch

"Our seatbelts."

Remus' own smile radiated forth, the pride of teaching on his face.

"Exactly, exactly, and I don't know if you noticed, but Tonks' seatbelt was unfastened, leaving her in the future whilst we travelled back in time."

Harry nodded along with what the man was saying

"Ok that's all straightforward enough, when you get around the idea of time travel itself. But how did we shift in space as well? That seems like it would be tricky to pull off."

Remus shook his head slightly before grinning

"It's actually quite straightforward; the usual housing of a time turner is a small golden frame. Now gold, as I'm sure you both know, as a noble metal is an excellent conductor of magic, thus making it an ideal material to hold the magical sands of a time turner. But what are cars made from? Steel mostly these days, and we all know that steel, an alloy of carbon, and Iron, the most magically inert substance on the planet. Usually a time turner frame made from Iron simply wouldn't work, it would shatter and be left behind in translation and the time turner would shatter upon arrival in the past. But because the car is such a large and sturdy object it refuses to break from the magical strain, and instead of the time turner simply going backwards in time in the same location, it's actually dragged back along the physical travels of wherever the car was in the past. In our case four hours before we got to your house in Oxford the car was parked outside this house. And so that's where the time turner took us. Quite a convenient method of transport all things considered. "

Harry's head was spinning, the concepts Remus was discussing were newt level at best and, while smart, he wasn't Hermione. His witch on the other hand, was indeed Hermione, and she had latched onto what Remus was getting at straight away.

"That's how we're going to get back tonight isn't it? Tonks is going to drive the car back here and we'll use the time turner to go back to Oxford before she even leaves."

Remus nodded, his grin threatening to cause permanent damage to his face.

"Exactly right, it's a perfect and fool proof way of getting you from place to place without Voldemort's minions being able to intercept you. It then becomes up to us to keep the car out of their hands; which isn't as difficult as one might think with the way old Tom and his minions ignore everything Muggle, tossing it out of hand as being beneath them. That Valmortis character is a bit more on the ball but we're certain that he hasn't wised up enough to make the connection."

Harry felt he had to be the devil's advocate.

"And what if he does? What's to stop him simply following the car and attacking our home? What's to stop him attacking here?"

Remus tapped the side of his nose in the classic gesture.

"Exactly what I asked Albus Harry, what would be to stop the prat from simply following it to either end of the loop; The Fidelius charm that's what. Albus is the secret keeper for Grimmauld place and, with his help; we're going to make you the secret keeper for the Oxford house."

Harry felt a huge weight settle on his shoulders as Hermione realized he would need his emotions for this decision, to weigh things over properly in his mind. The turmoil returned and he spent a moment battling with himself, alongside Hermione who helped keep things in check for him as he sifted through his thoughts. Eventually he nodded slowly.

"It's safe, both ends of the loop are closed, and I assume the car is untraceable?"

Remus nodded grimly

"Its steel construction is untraceable by wizards, Muggles could to it easily enough with their ways but we feel confident that Valmortis and Tom wouldn't know a Muggle tracking device from a toaster."

Hermione had a frown on her face and when Remus nodded to her with an amused expression on his face she launched into her question immediately.

"If the car itself is so hard to charm, track or otherwise affect with magic how on earth did you make the other modifications to it?"

Grinning Remus pointed to the small mechanical spider sitting on Harry's shoulder

"Exactly the same way that thing was made, we built it from the ground up by engraving shaped runestones and then transfiguring them into the steel parts. It's a crying shame the statute of secrecy is such a big deal else we could make a fortune selling the things to the Muggles. They're more efficient, more reliable, and safer than any mundane creation. But they're so heavily magical that no unaware mundane would ever be able to sit in one without breaching about a dozen international magical treaties."

Hermione slumped back in her chair grinning

"You've covered all the bases haven't you?"

Remus nodded again, and Harry wondered if his neck was getting sore from it all.

"You're damn right we have, your safety, and the safety of your family is paramount to us, speaking of which, do you want to ask any questions about the Order before Mad Eye and Albus get here?"

-:-

Hermione's head was abuzz with possibilities of what 'the car' could do but she shoved it out of her head for the time being, she could think about that later, for the moment Harry needed her in the here and now. His first question was, to Hermione's ears, a pertinent one.

"Who else is involved?"

She watched as Remus glanced at Sirius who was counting absently on his fingers and rolled his eyes at the slightly younger man.

"Well, there's myself, Sirius, Tonks, Mad Eye, both Weasley parents, Vance and Kingsley, Diggle, Minerva, Dung, Hagrid, Snape, Rogers…"

He listed off another ten names in which there were no names Hermione recognised until…

"And of course Albus, but he very rarely has time to step in these days, ironic considering he's our founder, leader and otherwise organiser."

Hermione frowned at that, yes, she knew Dumbledore had a lot on his plate; it had been all over the papers how he had been ensconced with the Wizengamot for days at a time trying to convince them of the impending threat of Voldemort's return. As such she could understand why he had little time on his hands to keep his own organization in line, but really, what else was suffering in his absence? He was the supreme mugwump of the ICW after all; sure that was a full time job all on its own? Never mind the time he spent at Hogwarts as its headmaster, surely that was suffering in the interim as well? Though there would be less required of him on that front because of the holidays at the time.

All in all it was a bit baffling that Dumbledore thought he could do all of this, gain the positions and run out of time to do anything but one of his jobs in such a monumental fashion. That was of course assuming that they were handling ordinary Wizengamot business as well in those cloistered meetings. It could very well be that _none_ of his responsibilities were being met. She became aware that Harry was speaking again and wrestled her thoughts into cohesion so she could concentrate on him.

"So what exactly is the Order of the Phoenix anyway? I can pretty much get the gist of it from what I've heard already but I'd like to hear it from you two."

Sirius fielded this question with a slightly sombre expression

"We're the resistance, vigilantes who'll do what the Ministry can't or won't to protect innocents from the predations of Voldemort, his Lieutenant Valmortis and their minions. Furthermore, we're the organisation who'll, hopefully, bring about his end should the ministry or Dumbledore's personal plans not prove up to the challenge, don't tell the old man I said that though."

Hermione snickered under her breath and she felt rather than head Harry's deep rumbling laugh as he tried to supress it. There was more to be said and asked, much more, but she had a feeling that Harry had enough to think about for the time being, so she spoke up again.

"When is Mad Eye getting here anyway?"

She watched Remus glance at his wristwatch with a bemused expression

"In all reality he should be here already."

"I am"

Everyone around the table shot back and drew wands at the sound of Alastor's voice coming from the shadows, when they realised who it was they relaxed somewhat and Harry walked up to the grizzled veteran

"God Mad Eye you nearly gave us all heart attacks, what were you playing at?"

The older man growled out in his usual gravelly voice

"Constant vigilance you lot, been under a disillusionment spell this whole time. But, that said this is a safe house and you were told you were safe, I'm not sure you two even know about disillusionment charms yet so you can be forgiven, and the two yokels here who do know about the charm were well aware that this is a safe house… So I guess you're off the hook, this time. Enough of that, we need to get started. Have you been continuing with the exercises I sent you?"

Hermione nodded from behind Harry but let him answer the question, like it or not she knew Harry was the one Mad Eye was interested in, she was smart yes, but she didn't have the same talent for sorcery that Harry did, she made up for it with her spellcasting though.

"Yeah we have, I'm not really sure how to progress from here because we're at the limit of what we can do as underage magic users."

Hermione watched on silently as Mad Eye nodded once, before answering Harry's question

"You know anything about the Fidelius Potter?"

Harry shook his head

"Only that it was used to keep my parents… safe. There's a secret keeper but their exact role isn't totally clear. But I understand they're the one who can give the information of the place away."

"That's right Potter. The charm is cast over a location or object, sometimes even an idea or concept, and one person is designated as the secret keeper. All knowledge of the thing the charm is cast on is removed from the world except for the mind of that one person, and only that person can give the information about the thing away. If the secret keeper is trustworthy it's a fool proof defence, if not then well."

He didn't need to continue, Hermione knew exactly what he was referring to; Peter Pettigrew's betrayal was fresh on everyone's mind. Harry cleared his throat audibly

"That's all well and good, but what does that have to do with us training?"

Moody growled slightly, clearly a bit frustrated.

"Think Potter, if no one outside of the order knows this place exists, how can the ministry possibly ping you two for underage magic? To them, while you're here, you're completely invisible."

Things clicked into place in Hermione's mind rather suddenly then.

"Then we'd be able to practise at home too once the Fidelius is cast there."

Moody nodded, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips

"Exactly, by the time you get back to Hogwarts you'll be ready for almost anything."

Hermione saw Harry rubbing his hands together in a somewhat gleeful fashion and she couldn't help but smile, he'd been looking forward to throwing some sorcery around. She couldn't help but feel a bit excited that they would be able to show their parents some more advanced magic too.

"Then let's get started shall we? Do you have somewhere for us to practise?"

"I do, come with me."

-:-

They soon found that the place Moody had in mind was a room on the third floor of the building that had the appearance of a bunker. The walls were lined with a thick metallic material that Harry suspected was lead, and the ceiling lights were miniature globes filled with multi-coloured fire that Hermione informed him in the back of his mind was Gubrathian fire. The floor was perfectly smooth and slightly springy, more of Moody's typical duelling surface. The ghosts of scorch marks were scattered around, curse damage that would never truly be restored, this room had already seen action, and not of the gentle kind.

Moody pointed them to a side door where they went in and found a small changing room with several dozen lockers. They were both a little shocked to find two of the lockers already had their names on them. They got rid of their outer garments and stowed any extra items away ending up in their jeans and tops. A plaid button down shirt for Harry and a dark green blouse for Hermione made of loose cotton. When they returned to the main room, wands in hand, Moody was sitting on a thick stool of simple design, getting the hint Hermione hexed them a pair of stools from the air and they sat down opposite him.

Wasting no time he began talking immediately.

"Up until this point we've been covering fairly stock standard sorcery in our defence classes, I want to step away from that now. We're going to get stuck in to advanced theory and practise that isn't usually covered until at least sixth year, and sometimes not till seventh. Are you confident you can both handle that?"

Harry looked briefly at Hermione and grinned, she looked more eager than perhaps he had ever seen her before. Of course they were able.

"Yes sir we are."

"Good, in that case listen closely. Today you travelled back in time four hours to get to this place by using the car. Do either of you have any idea how it was accomplished?"

Harry raised an eyebrow

"We've been told about the details of the car itself but the core mechanics of the time turner are still a mystery to us."

Moody didn't look put out; clearly he'd been expecting this

"Not to worry, few do at your age, perhaps another question, what do either of you know about radioactive decay?"

Harry had read about this in his physics text books but wasn't totally savvy with the information, or at least he hadn't been until Hermione and he had discussed it in depth and gotten other source material to research.

"Simply put sir Radioactive decay is the process by which the nucleus of an unstable atom loses energy, atoms that undergo this process emit energy and are describes by Muggles as being radioactive."

Moody had conjured a chalk board behind them and written down Harry's definition of radioactive decay.

"Close enough for our purposes. The Muggles have been able to measure this rate of energy loss extremely accurately and have determined that the rate of decay of some elements is so constant that you can measure time by it. Now, as a follow up, what did we learn towards the end of last year about sorcery?"

Hermione fielded this question happily

"That all magic is simply a different kind of energy, and if enough is present with enough will we are creating mass from it, i.e. physical matter."

Moody was excitedly scribbling on the board

"Exactly right Miss Granger, keep that all in mind now. The Unspeakables in the department of mysteries learned about fifteen years ago how to force magical energy into physical matter in its pure state. Don't ask me how they do it they'd never tell the likes of me anyway. What results are tiny grains of radioactive material that have a huge amount of energy and, like previously mentioned, suffer from radioactive decay. These grains of magical matter are the 'sand' that you see inside a time turner."

He pauses here and takes a deep breath before continuing

"Because the magical matter loses energy at a constant measurable rate, spells can be used to track its progress and measure the current energy of the magical matter within the glass. This energy is measured in once every hour and an imprint is left on the spell in an arithmantic formula of the energy measured at that time. When you turn the frame of the time turner, which is enchanted with these spells, the frame searches back through its magical log going back incrementally, one turn for one hour, two for two hours etc. Then once the frame stops turning a spell is powered that forces magical energy back into the magical matter up to that pre-set amount. Where does this magical energy come from? The past is where. I don't know the details, they've been explained to me before but I just get confused by all the numbers, always was terrible with Arithmancy. Regardless the spell forces any matter connected to the time turner back in time to the point in which the magical matter inside the glass had the indicated energy levels."

Harry's head, frankly, was spinning. He was following the concepts easily enough, even if Moody wasn't the greatest teacher of them. But the idea of what they were discussing was somewhat insane.

"Are you telling us that all of time, all of existence, is tied to magical energy? When you force the time turner back to the point at which it last had that energy you're not just changing that one time turner are you? You're forcing all creation back along the timeline."

Moody nodded once, his shaggy mane flopping

"It's an amazing concept, one that not many people comprehend. I still have trouble wrapping my head around it. As far as we're aware however, it's not the entire universe that gets sucked backwards, just this planet. Which is a weird thought all on its own but there you go. Regardless that's not what I need you to get out of this and we've gone a little off track. Rather I want you to consider the implications of the fact that all matter, is magical energy made manifest."

Harry and Hermione both ran the idea through their heads but it didn't make any new connections, slightly frustrated Moody snapped his fingers, searching for a way to explain.

"Potter, back in the graveyard Tom was moving faster than you could get your head around, he was blocking spells from both you and Miss Delacour who I understand was casting through your wand?"

Harry swallowed back the lump in his throat at the painful memories and the still raw wound of their broken bond, but nodded

"That's correct sir."

"How do you think he managed that? You're in the prime of your youth, you're a frantically fast fighter, one of the best in my opinion, and you had another fantastically fast fighter casting alongside you. How then do you think Voldemort could move quicker than both of you to block all of your attacks, or parry them, and fire back his own attacks?"

Harry mulled it over for a second before answering

"He must have been moving quicker than both of us combined, which seems obvious until you figure that I struggle to complete all the forms with my wand and keep them clear and precise when casting sorcery at that speed, any quicker and you'd begin to lose definition in your casting and it would become useless."

Moody sat back down on the stool, his hands on his knees looking at Harry with both eyes, it was quite unnerving.

"Exactly, how then do you propose he was able to achieve such a feat? What would have had to have happened for him to be able to both cast more quickly and maintain definition in spell form?"

Hermione answered before he could, her lightning fast mind connecting the dots before Harry could even begin to think of the problem.

"He had to have been acting within a different sense of time to harry. He would have to have slowed things down around him so that he could react to spells, form the wand motions correctly and then respond with his own attacks, also forming the wand motions correctly. That would all be impossible if he was reacting to spells coming in at normal speed."

Moody growled deep in his throat and sat back eyes at the ceiling.

"And that's the issue here. That's why Voldemort is so unbeatable, because he has the ability to manipulate time to his advantage, to speed up the radioactive decay of his own magical core so that he reacts at a faster rate than everything else around him, and, magic being magic, this means he exists at a different rate of time, he moves reacts and thinks quicker than anyone else on the planet. It's not even a secret how he does it, there's actually a fairly simple spell that does the job adequately, unfortunately for most witches and wizards it's deadly. Why? Because they don't have the control required to regulate the speed at which their core decays. Normally our magical cores decay at a constant rate, losing energy, which is then refreshed by our bodies naturally. When we cast spells we drain that core a little quicker, losing energy although not through decay, which is a different process. Over time our bodies regenerate that energy and we get back to top shape.

But what would be to happen if your core decayed quicker than your body could naturally restore the energy to it? You'd waste away, your cells aging and your body weakening until you're nothing more than a pile of dust. That's what happens to most people who cast that spell, it consumes them. Question, how old do you think I am?"

The non sequiter caught them by surprise but Harry tentatively said

"Fifty maybe? Early sixties at the latest."

A barking laugh came from the ex auror

"Flatterer, I turn a hundred and thirty next Monday. Why do I look so young? Half my age even? It's because of my core. I'm strong, stronger than most wizards save Dumbledore. Chances are I'll live into my eight hundredth year if battle doesn't do me in first or sickness doesn't take over my body and make me waste away. Dumbledore won't thank me any for telling you but he grew up with Nicolas Flamel, they were childhood friends. Aberforth, normally toted as being his brother, is actually something closer to a great nephew, well several greats anyway. Grindlewald is a mere child compared to Albus. Why then was Nicolas' life bound to the elixir from the Philosopher's stone and Albus' isn't?

Power of course, Dumbledore is one of the strongest wizards to ever live, save Merlin of course. Why do you think he holds so many offices? He took his hereditary Wizengamot seat when he was eighteen, as the oldest living member he automatically gains the Chief Warlock position. He was inducted into the ICW at age eighty, same thing there, oldest most powerful member, Supreme Mugwump. Headmaster of Hogwarts is something of a valued title to him as it's the only one he keeps on merit. Why am I telling you this? Because Albus was the only other person to successfully cast the Tempus Personae spell and not die horrifically. If he hadn't there's a good chance he would have lived well into his two thousandth year, as it is he's at the end of his time.

As we age our body's natural ability to restore our core weakens and eventually it peters out entirely, and when that happens, we die. The Tempus Personae spell accelerates this considerably; there is a high price to pay for the level of power gained by such a spell. Voldemort is a completely different story now, and it's what makes him so difficult to overcome. Did you see him cast the spell after he was resurrected? Keeping in mind that it needs to be spoken aloud?"

Harry wracked his memory and shook his head

"No, of course not, because when he died he had already cast the spell, and when he was resurrected it was already a part of him. Surely you noticed his appearance; more demon than human? Over time he's undergone dozens of rituals to enhance his power and extend his longevity, losing some of his humanity as time goes on. When he was resurrected all of those rituals, the Tempus Personae spell included, were already factored into his body to deal with naturally. Simply put he could live for thousands of years, potentially indefinitely, because his body will never not be able to replenish his core. He's a nigh unstoppable lifeless demon whose soul goal is to eradicate all resistance from the world and crown himself king, then begin to remake it in his image; Muggles, first generation witches and wizards, half-bloods, squibs. They'll all be wiped out. Only purebloods will remain."

Harry felt Hermione's hand lace into his and clench tightly, the meaning was clear, not an option.

"Why am I telling you all this? Because Albus thinks, and I agree, that between you, your soul bond, the massive magical energy you possess, one of you could cast the Tempus Personae spell, and not suffer any true magical penalty, because you'd have your bond mate supporting your core and preventing it from degrading. And between you, you have the will power to regulate the amount that you increase your rate of decay and not lose control of the spell. We think that Harry, you could equal Voldemort's speed."

Both of them sat there, stunned. This was not how they thought their training would begin.

-:-

AN3: I'm a bastard I know, the worst kind of cliffy. Well, not quite, but getting there. Big start to the new instalment huh? Ah well, we'll see how it goes.

AN4: if anything about the nuclear and atomic science in this chapter is outright false please correct me I'd be happy to hear how to improve it, but remember that these are wizards talking about Muggle concepts, they know what happens but not exactly how it works. And Mad Eye isn't the most scientifically inclined person. Also did the discussion of time travel give anyone else a headache? I tell you writing this chapter was one of the most physically painful thing's I've done in literature to date.

AN5: Review responses to the final chapter of HPatWoD

Josephus: Thank you! Here it is, enjoy!

XtDemon666: Dawww warm fuzzies, thanks.

Jmsjns32: Thanks, that's encouraging

NathanHale: Indeed, she's going to be a major player too. Also here's the next instalment, enjoy

Starboy: Thanks

Anotherboarduser: I knew you'd come around eventually :D Also here's the first teaser of the explanations behind Dumbledore's actions… Obviously he's a lot older than anyone expected, what does that entail?

Dark0w1: Very, Very undead. Also I have to admit I have no idea whether Harry is going to stay put in England or not, that's probably going to be the meat for a later story. What I can say for sure is that for this one he's staying here.

Astrological Stars: And? Ignore it if you must, I won't apologise for replying to reviews or sharing my thoughts.

Shukokage: Dawwww thankyou!

Beyondthesea: Daww thanks, can't get a higher compliment then that. Also yeah… I hate doing this to Fleur but at the same time I really want to put some more… yanno, deadly threats into the series (Like the protagonists didn't have enough of those to worry about.)

Beautifultyrant: :D *Looks left and right* :D Grinning all day long, thank you

Ilovetoph4eva: I must admit I'm waiting anxiously for that 'more' you had to say, thanks for the review

Ak: Merci!

Cateagle: Not as much slander this time as this Dumbledore is on a better footing to fight tooth and nail with the Wizengamot having actual memories to show them. Thanks for your continued support, I hope this is all you were hoping for as the beginning to the next instalment.

Pandaman: Thank you for writing that review of yours, it was a nice read and I'm touched you made the effort. You did a wonderful job conveying your thoughts.

Batmanrishi: Eh… weak characters? Ok, your thoughts are noted, move along please.

Queserasera: Too much there for me to reply to all at once. Suffice it to say that the mistakes you've mentioned I either already had my eye on or am quite happy with accepting as fuck ups. There were a few things that came completely out of left field from your reviews and smacked me about the face to say "Hey, look at this, you screwed up, go fix that shite." But at the end of the day I'm just too lazy to go fix the issues and deal with that ;.; I really wish I wasn't but there you go. Thanks regardless. Also nice to hear someone commenting on sorcery, as I've previously mentioned I don't feel that it gets nearly as much feedback as it deserves after all the work I put in, so thanks again.

Kkerklaan: No, she didn't deserve it, she didn't deserve any of that, but this is a tragedy, and that is kind of the definition of what happened. You were warned that there would be character death at the start.

Lightskiller: Does this answer your question?

MrsH: Ok, let's tackle this issue you have with my lack of noting to the reasonable restriction of underage sorcery etc. Firstly I mentioned in my author's note in the first chapter that I was modifying the rule to allow school students to use small amounts of magic outside school for homework and ease of living purposes. The magic that is done outside of Hogwarts in the story falls under this category. As for the long Author's notes and responses that's a personal thing, I like replying to my reviewers and building writer/reader relationships with them. Sorry fi that offends you feel free to skip these sections. Otherwise thanks for your input, greatly appreciated.

Guest: *Facepalm*November, I meant to write November. Sighhhhhhh

Gcps: Harmony ftw indeed! More is here, control your spasms friendo

Darkheart: No worries mate, happy to explain, a more note is in my profile if you want more info

Mionefan: *Nervously squeeing* Senpai is noticing me. Thanks for your reviews I can't tell you how excited I was when I noted that someone who I've read work from deigned to comment upon my own work. As for my horrific tense control and grammar I'm well aware of it, don't worry. It's my greatest failing as a writer that my control of the finer points of the English language is lacking. Nevermind, thanks for your time and effort spent reviewing!

Mighty Pen: I seem to get mixed responses about my descriptions, some people say too much, some people say just right, I like them personally so I'll keep in the same vein, thanks for your review.

Guest: ;aojdhfoadsf thanks, you made me squirm happily all over the place for a moment there. Keep reading, please.

Lairenna: aofhsdfhaodhfodhf Squirming intensifies

Kelwin: Yanno I considered this after I wrote the chapter, and then figured that Hermione and Harry (being as close as they are) probably talked about this kind of thing in the past and so it's not really an issue. I get that that's copping out a bit but it's just so much more natural to write it this way.

Specky Clarke: Thanks! I always hoped people were on the same page with that

Fan Forever: Ah, now this is an interesting point, and it's deliberate, here today we have systems in place for rape victims or victims of near rape or torture including counselling etc. But in the wizarding world none of that exists _especially_ for a part Veela. Remember, we aren't in Kansas anymore.

Okaayyyy that took awhile. Thanks for reading and other shenanigans everyone. The next chapter: Training, will be coming soon. Although perhaps not too soon, depends on how hard the sodding thing is to write. Toodles!

LGreymark


	2. Training

AN: Standard disclaimer everyone, JKR owns the toys, we just get to play with them.

AN2: Oh look, chapter two, that happened quicker than I thought it would. Be warned, a discussion of Harry's rape is in this chapter as well as its effect on him, also a brief lemon.

-:-

Chapter Two: Training

The two teens sat back on their stools, thinking rapidly between them. Both were nervous about the prospect, what if something went wrong? If Harry lost control of the spell he would die, wrenching Hermione with him into the void as her own magic tried to support the spell. No, they decided, the chance that he could become as fast as Voldemort wasn't worth the risk, not yet, better to do it when they had no other option, as a last resort, there had to be other ways to bring him down.

They both turned to look at Moody and before they even spoke he nodded with an understanding expression on his gnarled face. Hermione watched as Harry gave him their answer

"We can't do this Mad Eye, not yet, we might have the potential, but neither of us is sure if we have the skill. There have to be other options, things unexplored. We'll search for those first, we'll train, and we'll get better. In the case of nothing else being viable and time running out, then we'll try your spell."

To their surprise Mad Eye clapped his hands together a few times before standing up and offering them a hand to shake.

"Well done you two, you just made your first truly adult decision. No more time for chit chat though, we do need to get some training in before the meeting later. We have a few hours ahead of us; it's two o'clock now, the meeting starts at six, it'll end when it ends and we have until one o'clock this morning to keep practising afterward. At one o'clock Tonks will get back here with the car and you'll travel back in time to your house in Oxford. So that's about ten hours. So, well I guess there is time for chit chat, but not really. We have pepper up potions for you after the meeting if you need them we have a long night ahead of us, questions?"

Hermione and Harry both shook their heads, vanished their stools and stepped back into the large room with their wands held aloft. Much to their consternation Moody just chuckled.

"Ganging up on an old man with a peg leg are you? You two should be ashamed of yourselves."

Hermione just grinned, she was well aware of Moody's skill level; one didn't survive ninety years in the auror force without being unnaturally skilled. A half beat passed and then Moody stood up, vanishing his own stool and stepping back.

"Right you two, I know you're both extremely skilled but for a start let's be using our practise wands shall we? No one needs to die today."

Harry and Hermione both caught the wands tossed to them in their off hands. Hermione, previously rather clumsy, had improved her hand-eye coordination greatly while practising with Harry. Near simultaneously they stowed their real wands and switched grips of their practise ones to their main hands. Mad Eye could probably guess, but they had already merged their minds, not completely, but enough to make them nearly perfectly in synch. Moody let out a growl that if Hermione didn't know better she would have labelled as nervous, in reality he was probably excited.

"One more, thing, no spell limits, don't be idiots and use something deadly, but spells and sorcery are both fine. As a last point this whole room is magically shielded so don't worry about spells hitting the walls, ready?"

Both teens nodded once, the tendons at their necks tensing briefly before relaxing.

"Then let's begin."

-:-

Alastor Moody was an extremely good duellist. He was the thirty three times winner of the crossed wands international auror duelling tournament, he had personally trained Filius Flitwick when he went through the duelling circles, and was powerful magically to boot. He had survived thick and thin of ninety years in the auror circles and had brought down more aspiring dark lords than Dumbledore. But these two were something else.

Immediately he was on the back foot, Harry and Hermione had moved to either side flanking him efficiently whilst still keeping out of each other's line of fire. Harry was a blur of motion, offensive sorcels flying thick and fast in Alastor's direction, too fast to parry or dodge, he just threw up a shield and hoped to Merlin it held. Hermione was, if possible, more difficult to deal with.

While Harry was a prodigy of sorcery Hermione was the undisputed smartest witch of her age and had a mental spell library numbering in the thousands, and she unleashed that knowledge now to its greatest extent. Offensive spells and sorcels were mixed in with the strangest of utility spells. Buffets of wind and sleet hit Alastor at random times and angles, keeping him on his toes. The floor was covered with water which she periodically electrified or froze requiring snap reactions from him. Miniature flocks of canaries flew at him periodically before transfiguring into balloons filled with chalk powder that quickly made it nigh impossible to see.

They traded back and forth rapidly for nearly a minute, magic flying thick and fast before Moody realized the problem. Hermione wasn't really trying to beat him here; she was just holding him in place, locking him down for…

A massive echoing crack sounded from behind him and heralded his sorcel shield smashing apart like so much sugar glass and before he could turn to respond a massive force smashed into his back, propelling him forwards straight into a returning volley from Hermione that caught him mid-flight in the legs. His upper body swung down and he abruptly, and painfully, face planted into the floor, breaking his already mangled nose again. Beaten however, he was not. Acting as fast as he could he flicked a tripping jinx at Hermione before blasting her off her feet with a sorcel as she fell. Her shields dropped for that final offensive

Rolling he tried to respond to Harry behind him but only had time for a broad spectrum shield as the full fury of a burgeoning arch mage slammed into the ground around him. Alastor put his whole weight into his shield as he stood, flicking a stunner wandlessly at Hermione to keep her out of the fight. Harry was dangerous enough on his own. He switched to a duellist's shield batting away any spells Harry threw into the mix and parrying his sorceries as best he could. Small explosions of light burst in the air between them as their sorceries collided, cancelling each other out in miniature starbursts. Both were trying to overwhelm the other at the same time, leading to a sort of miniature arms race to see who could put the greater power into their sorcels for more time.

Alastor grinned behind his shield at the adrenaline running through his veins; never before had he fought someone who could do this. He supposed Albus probably could, but the old man was too fast for Moody to fight like this, same problem with the two times Moody had engaged Voldemort in a duel. There was no room for any kind of fancy acrobatics between them; the speed of their casting was too fast for any room for error, they were locked in place, more or less having to stay in one place as they traded back and forth. If they judged the trajectory of a sorcel wrong as they were moving and it hit them they were done for. His face split into a snarling grin, this was actually kind of fun.

-:-

Harry was highly conscious of exactly how the duel was going; both of them were evenly matched at their current rate, exchanging sorcels with each other, trying to overwhelm the other with strength while simultaneously intercepting spells with their shields. The thing was that Harry wasn't sure of his limits. He'd never before fought an enemy for long enough to even begin to start exhausting him and he was nowhere near that point now. But he knew what Mad Eye was doing; Death eaters had the advantage of numbers, in a true battle Harry wouldn't be able to afford exhausting himself fighting one enemy, even if that enemy was Voldemort. He had to end the fight with enough strength to take on the rest of them.

What really had his back up was the casual way he dealt with Hermione. A tripping jinx, a jab and a stunner and she were out of the fight, they needed to work on Hermione's defences somehow. That said in a real duel Moody would have been killed by the first time he was knocked to the floor. Harry felt Moody's sorcels beginning to rise in power again and he huffed angrily, time to end this duel.

Gesturing broadly with his wand Harry erected a shield in front of him, a large hazy barrier of magic and behind it he began his end game spell. The Same large ball of energy he had used against Krum built up as he consciously funnelled energy into it. Then pushing with all his might on his wand he forced the magic out explosively, the beam of invisible magic shattering his shield and heading straight for Alastor.

-:-

When Potter began casting his beam sorcel Moody knew he only had seconds to retaliate, he knew exactly what Harry would do with this spell, he had seen it against Krum and frankly it was terrifying. His ability to siphon that much raw magic from the air to create a perfectly efficient beam was not something Moody could match. He couldn't deflect the beam with a Protego; it would just shatter under that much power. He couldn't hope to outlast Potter's energy levels, as the boy would have access to limitless magical energy with all of the start-up capital they had given him by fighting for so long in the room. There was only one option left to him, he had to move before Potter could pin him down, this was one of those times he really regretted having a peg leg.

Thinking quickly he levitated himself before using a kinetic sorcel to rapidly move himself to the left, just out of the way of Harry's beam as it struck the back wall of the room, creating an echoing 'gong' like noise and, to Moody's horror, began to follow him, scorching the wall behind him. He had to end this quickly. Potter was moving the beam rapidly, this was no slow march of energy, this was a rapid darting, like a student with a handheld laser light darting it around a room, and Moody was only just staying away from it as it pursued him. What he didn't account for as he was trying to line up a shot with a wandless stunner was Granger waking up.

-:-

Hermione opened her eyes somewhat groggily, she expected to see Harry standing over her, hand held out to help her up as usual, and was momentarily surprised when he wasn't there. Instead she looked up to see a giant flaming beam of energy chasing Moody around the room with harry behind it, grinning his winning smile. She sat back and watched him taunt Moody for a while with the beam, feeling a bit of vindicated pride as the old man was chased about. Then, when he got too close, she almost lazily stunned him off his feet, ending the duel rather abruptly.

The beam of energy flicked off rather rapidly and Hermione grinned as Harry walked over to her and offered that helping hand she had been waiting for. His first words to her in nearly a minute were somewhat cheeky.

"I didn't know you were such a spoilsport sweetheart. I was enjoying giving him the run around."

Chuckling she pressed a small kiss to his lips before gesturing to the ancient auror.

"You really should wake him up."

She chuckled as Harry's eyes widened before he scuttled off to do just that.

-:-

The afternoon passed quite comfortably, Moody put them through their paces, practising their sorcel and spell chains, improving the efficiency of their shields by learning how to regulate the control of energy flowing into them so as not to waste strength, and many other small tricks of the trade. Moody told them quite plainly that they were more powerful than they should be at that age, he wasn't sure why and would ask Albus about it but between that and their speed it more than made up for their lack of true experience.

When it was time for the meeting they took a quick shower (Separately) before heading down to the kitchen, where they were told the meeting would be held. Moody was already there when they arrived and was chatting comfortably to Sirius and Remus who both gave Harry a thumbs up. They sat down comfortably together at the table and Harry took Hermione's hand in his, enjoying being able to relax with her after four hours of near constant exercise. Moody had promised them a more relaxed evening of theoretical study to round things off, claiming that they only needed more duelling practise from now on, there was little more raw knowledge he could impart to them.

The theoretic al study would then be about subjects outside of the realm of combat. Harry was a little shocked to know that Mad Eye held a hereditary seat on the Wizengamot, although he rarely attended meetings of the august body, and knew a great deal about wizarding law. He would teach them what he knew about current politics, wizard law in general, and other smaller topics that, while not useful on the battlefield, would certainly help them in years to come. Harry was highly conscious in that moment that he would one day be the Lord Harry Potter and Hermione would be his wife the Lady Hermione Potter. Things they really needed to get their heads around before they got married.

Gringotts had begun sending him monthly statements as per his request and he had been staggered at his monthly income. He couldn't access the funds until he came of age but it was nice to know that it was there waiting for them upon their majority. Hermione had expressed doubts about what people would say with her marrying into money before Harry reminded her that her own family wasn't exactly poor. It wasn't the same level of wealth but she wouldn't have wanted for anything even if she hadn't married him.

It didn't end the argument but it did put it on the backburner. Neither of them was totally comfortable with the money Harry had but there was little they could, or even should, do about it. They would just have to learn to live with the fact that they were wealthy.

Several minutes after the teens arrived more people started filtering in. The Weasley parents were first and, upon seeing the pair came over to greet them with true warmth and apology for their distant nature last year. Molly especially was fussing and harry was suspicious of the fact that she might see him as a replacement son to take under her wing. He already had an adopted family thank you very much, and he loved them a great deal. Tonks was absent obviously, but Harry identified a great number of people he recognized and that Minerva, who was sitting next to Hermione and was chatting to her about the coming school year, pointed out to them both.

Finally Albus walked into the room and Harry met his eyes. There was a strange exchange of understanding between them that the time for enmity was over, they were on the same side. Marginally less composed Dumbledore took his seat and called the meeting to order.

"For the first time in several months we have a new pair of faces with us tonight. I'd like to welcome Mr Harry Potter and Miss Hermione Granger to our presence. Through their unavoidable involvement with the coming conflict and their dedication to training, overall maturity and steadfast nature I've discussed with Alastor and Kinglsey, and they have agreed, that we should offer them permanent places at this table as fully fledged members of the Order."

Bedlam erupted, particularly from Molly and, to Harry's great surprise, Minerva.

"Albus, you know what they have in store and you want to heap more pressure on them? Isn't that asking a bit much of two teens?"

Dumbledore tried to respond but he was cut off, rather rudely, by Molly.

"Why do they need to be involved at all Albus? They are just teens after all, two years shy of adulthood and you're offering them a place at the table for above age wizards and witches?"

Dumbledore stood then, and Harry saw a glint in his eye he had seen only once before, true anger.

"Sit, down Molly, you more than anyone should understand that no one in this war is safe. These two _teens_." And here Harry was surprised at the scathing tone in the old man's voice, "Have done more to prepare for the coming conflict and openly oppose him in the last few years than you have in your entire life. They are here, at my request, just as Severus is, because they offer something to this group that no one else can. A unique skill set and the potential for great progress for our community and the survival for witches and wizards as a whole in this country."

The room was silent; no one dared so much as breathe.

"I have done too much wrong by these two, Harry especially, to deny them what they have _earned_. If you have a problem with that Molly I suggest you find the door out of this place."

Harry was struck the by something he had not yet considered, did he even want to be a part of this? This organized vigilantism? He didn't need to even share a glance with Hermione to know she was thinking along the same lines, he could hear the thoughts barrelling through her over powered mind. Instead he sought out another pair of eyes; across the table from him Sirius was watching him with a slightly resigned expression, when he saw the look in Harry's eyes he simply shrugged. The meaning clear; 'this is your life kiddo'.

The fact of the matter was that at the end of the day harry was still a teenager. Yes he and Hermione were training, yes they were directly involved in the coming conflict. But they still had to go to school; they still had a family to spend time with. They didn't have the time to be gallivanting around the place hunting down death eaters, or whatever else they had in store for them. Harry would bring the fight to Voldemort when he was ready. He would end the snake faced bastard, and then he and Hermione would find somewhere to settle down and live. But this… this organization, was not their place to be.

Looking around now he could see several members of the order who were looking at Hermione with a touch of disdain. He was highly conscious of the fact that, at that moment, there was no other first generation witch or wizard around the table save Remus, and he had his own issues to deal with. This was an organization run and controlled by purebloods and half-bloods, and Harry knew that instinctively they wouldn't want Hermione with them. Once more he had to question if this was even a society he wanted to save. He met Dumbledore's eyes and shook his head a fraction.

The disappointed, but understanding look in Albus' eyes reassured Harry somewhat. The headmaster at least wasn't prejudiced against them; in fact Harry suspected that Dumbledore wanted them to be an example for the wizarding society of Britain, something for them to aspire to; the scion of a powerful magical house marrying a first generation witch? That was right up the old man's alley. But Harry was tired of being a pawn and after another moment of watching Dumbledore he stood and spoke to the room at large.

"I'll make this really easy for everyone. Thanks, but no thanks. We have enough on our plates as Professor McGonagall has already said, we're still teens, and we don't want to be a part of this. Not yet at any rate. Ask us again if you still need us when we're out of school."

Turning slightly he spoke directly to Dumbledore.

"Thank you for the invitation to join you. I appreciate the sentiment of what you were trying to do here, to make up for the past wrongs done to me. But it's unnecessary sir. Allowing me to live with Hermione's parents has mended that divide."

Another look of understanding passed between them, this was Dumbledore's penance, allowing Harry out of the Dursley's home where Dumbledore could keep an eye on him, relinquishing control over the boy who lived. That was the recompense for the suffering Harry had endured; a road to Harry's happiness and a possible mending of the relationship between the two wizards. He noticed a thought of Hermione's that Dumbledore was probably trying to set things to rights before he passed away, the guilt of the nearly departed.

He felt Hermione stand at his side and, as one; they left the table turning their backs on the Order of the Phoenix. They returned to the training room and sat together against one wall talking in quiet tone. It had been about thirty minutes when Alastor and Dumbledore finally entered the room and conjured seats. They looked rather relaxed all things considered and Harry wondered what was coming next. Alastor was the first one to speak

"Well you two made another important decision tonight and bravo to both of you. That was a tough spot we put you in; personally I didn't expect anything different."

Harry looked up at him to see an unusually kind expression in the old man's eyes. It struck him suddenly that Moody probably saw him as a younger version of himself, he shuddered at the thought of one day being as battered as the old man and he felt a sympathetic shudder from Hermione next to him as she noticed his thoughts.

"We're just not ready to be a part of something like this yet. We have too much life to live before we commit ourselves fully to this war. I'm still only fourteen for God's sake."

Harry noted that Dumbledore had his twinkling eyes on full blast and shot the man a curious look, fortunately the older wizard wasn't in the mood to play games.

"I am more proud of you two than I have been of any two other students in my entire time as a teacher. You know your limits, and what you can handle. Yet you strive to be better in those areas which you have committed yourself to. I have already asked Nymphadora to return with the car, we shall spend some time talking over the workings of the Fidelius charm and shall cast it before the night is over. Is that acceptable for you both?"

Harry nodded with a relived expression; it would be good to know that his family would be safe. It would mean few people would be able to come to the house for the time being, but it was a small price to pay for safety.

-:-

Later that night as he was crawling into bed with Hermione, Harry reflected on the day just passed. So much had happened in such a short space of time, culminating in Harry becoming the secret Keeper for the Granger home in Oxford. It was now, arguably, the safest building for him in all Britain, as he himself would have to give the game away to put himself under threat. He felt his inner turmoil being brushed aside by Hermione's mind as she rolled over to slip her arms about his waist. Sighing softly Harry returned the gesture, wrapping his arms about her shoulders and tugging her close against his chest.

Before leaving Hogwarts they rarely slept with much more than the barest of undergarments anymore, it was far too comfortable for them to lay flush against each other, their skin contact giving them both comfort and pleasure. Since returning home however Harry had begun to wear more modest nightwear and he was currently wearing a singlet (He abhorred sleeves on his nightwear) and light cotton trousers. He and Hermione both knew why, he was finding it harder and harder to be intimate with her after the events following the third task.

It tore at both of them, Harry because he couldn't be close to his love, and that he was hurting her with his inattention, and Hermione that she wasn't enough to break through his fear and insecurity. Harry felt Hermione's distress across their bond and felt tears spring up in his eyes as the recurring thoughts came back to him. He knew she wouldn't push him despite her own needs and he was thankful for that, he didn't know when he would be able to be intimate with her again after having been betrayed so brutally by someone he trusted.

He could feel her hands fisting on the back of his singlet and he held her as close as he could, pressing himself against her, desperately wanting her to understand that it wasn't her that was causing the problems, he couldn't even rise to the occasion, so to speak, his body shying away from any thought of intimacy and making it difficult to reassure her. Whenever he had tried in the past to push past the feelings of hurt and betrayal they had always come back full force and wilted him before they could engage in anything even remotely sexual.

They held each other tearfully as they fell asleep together, their minds meshing and merging, trying to make up for the lack of physical intimacy by becoming one. His thoughts rang through their minds before they lost all sense of identity.

"I'm sorry my love."

Her answer was brief, but it reassured him beyond any doubt.

"I forgive you. Sleep now, I'll be here with you, loving you, in the morning, sleep."

So sleep they did.

-:-

The day passed in something of a haze for the two teens. The previous night and day had been long and hard on them both, with the weirdness of time travel they had experienced twenty seven waking hours and even with pepper up potions they were dead on their feet the next day after their run. They got no practise in at all but rather took advantage of the lazy Sunday after going to church to simply relax and enjoy their time with Emma and Dan.

In the evening while Hermione was in their room finishing a book she had been meaning to read and Dan had turned in early for the night Emma took Harry into the living room and sat him down in an armchair, dragging another chair up she sat opposite him and took one of his hands in hers.

"Sweetie, I know things have been tricky between you and Hermione lately, I can see it in the tension between you."

Harry blushed crimson at this, well aware of what she was implying, never mind that she was his adopted mother, she was _Hermione's_ mother, and that made talking about the intimate side of Harry's relationship with Hermione very awkward. He felt reassured when she chuckled in a humoured tone.

"Oh stop that, I'm well aware that you and Hermione have been getting up to a bit more than friendly cuddling in that bed of yours over the last few months, I understand that you're horny teenagers in love and you have Dan and My blessing. Although I get that you've been a bit slow lately? Want to talk about it?"

Harry took a shaky breath before letting it out and sinking forwards into her understanding and very comforting embrace. Hermione was in her own little world with her book upstairs and Harry covertly shut himself off from her as he let himself go, shuddering in Emma's motherly embrace, fear and hurt coming to the surface of his thoughts, previously supressed for so long.

"That's it Harry, let it out I've got you."

He didn't cry but he came damn close to it, the memories of his rape surfacing again in all their painful detail. Thankfully he had no visual memories of the event, only the sensations. He sat there, shuddering in his mother's arms, hoping she could banish the phantoms of betrayal in his mind.

-:-

Emma felt somewhat robbed on behalf of Harry. Hadn't they already gone through this with his uncle's abusing him? Hadn't they already had the break down, the confessions, the talk? Wasn't he passed this already? Was he not allowed to have a comfortable abuse free life? How dare that French girl do this to her son? How dare she do such an abominable thing to another human being? Emma wasn't quite sure of the details but she was fairly certain that because of Hermione's bond with Harry there were even more complications that this rape had caused. It tore at her heartstrings to think of things being even harder for her two favourite teens.

When Harry gently pulled away from her, wiping furiously at non-existent tears she couldn't help but lean forward and brush his shorter hair back from his clear forehead and give it a soft kiss.

"You're with family now Harry. You're safe, and none of us will hurt you, least of all Hermione, go to her; make love to her. Show her you still need her that way Harry, I can't imagine what you're going through here, but if I were Hermione, I'd be scared you never wanted to be with me again. Let her back into your personal space Harry. If only bit by bit, let her erase those horrible memories so you can heal."

She just held him then, her piece said. She'd noticed tear tracks on Hermione's cheeks as she went up to the teen's room tonight and her heart went out to them both. This was a horrible situation to be in for them and she couldn't imagine how they must feel. In times like this she couldn't be more thankful for the poorly described bond that joined the two, Emma didn't know what it entailed but she was certain it was the reason they were pushing through these feelings of rejection and betrayal, because they knew, irrevocably, that they loved one another unconditionally.

When Harry finally headed upstairs, a determination in his eyes that made her let out a girlish giggle of amusement she said after him.

"Remember, we don't want to hear anything, be discreet okay?"

She chuckled as he headed upstairs, a brilliant blush on his cheeks.

-:-Lemon below-:-

When finally Harry pushed open the door to their room Hermione looked up at him from the bed where she was sitting against the headboard, her legs spread and one hand between them. Abruptly she blushed and hauled the covers back over herself, looking guilty. Harry's determined look broke like so much sugar glass. Unable to move he simply stood in the doorway looking down at the place his girlfriend had covered.

They both stood there, looking at each other for several seconds until Hermione, unable to stand the silence between them, spoke up.

"Harry… I'm sorry love; it's just been so hard to be here next to you getting all worked up and then not being able to reach for you, to love you. It got a bit much for me."

Finally Harry's legs seemed to work again, he quickly moved to her and slid under the covers his arms going around her without hesitation and he buried his head into the crook of her neck, speaking softly.

"It's me who should be sorry. What must you think of me being so unhelpful? I never meant to make this hard for you sweetheart I promise. I actually just talked to your mum about all this."

Hermione's face softened from her slightly scared look and she wrapped herself around him, her bare leg hooking over his hip and tugging him close. He could feel the heat in her centre where she had just been active.

"I know, your block between us isn't ever truly perfect, things slip through." She smiled "I can't say I disagree with what I heard her say though."

Harry was a touch confused

"Wait, if you heard what we were talking about then you knew why I came up here, why did you cover everything up?"

Hermione's blush was vivid

"Well it was still a bit of a shock and I panicked a bit."

Harry smiled and moved a hand between them, gently pushing her back onto the bed and looking into her eyes.

"Then let me help you out sweetheart. I've missed you."

He didn't hear her say anything more than a faint moan as his hand slid up under her shirt and cupped one of her breasts. He never tired of touching her, connecting with her in such an intimate way. He flicked his other hand at the door, muttering a silencing charm before moving his mouth to her throat, sucking lightly.

She moaned, hard into the air and beneath the covers he felt her hips buck. The walls around her mind, that she had clearly forgotten, came crashing down around her and she mixed her mind with his, showing him what she wanted.

Understanding his soul-mate's wishes he moved his hand from her breast and down between her legs, her answering moan was somewhere between thankful and delirious with pleasure. Slowly, so as to not rush, he slid a finger over her lower lips, before gently parting them and swiping the digit through the slick wetness already pooled there. Hermione's hands fisted in the sheet and his t-shirt, she was panting in anticipation. Without further ado Harry pushed the finger inside her curling it around and beginning to flick at that one spot he knew she loved.

Her hips bucked hard under his hand but he kept her still with his other arm sliding around her waist to keep her steady as he relentlessly worked at her centre, her mouth open in a constant moan as he altered his speed and pressure slightly inside her. It had been a bit more than a month since either of them had felt any release and she was on a hair trigger, so, barely moments after he started Hermione's body was wracked with shudders and she clung to him, her arms and legs wrapping around him, trapping his hand between her twitching thighs.

Slowly ever so slowly, she came down from her high and fixed him with a sultry smile. She released her clenched muscles allowing his finger to slide from her core before moving her own hand between them.

-:-

Hermione was on cloud nine, her body was humming with pleasure and all she could think about was returning the favour for her lovely man. So when his hand gently wrapped around her wrist she looked at him confused. His few words sent a spike of pain and regret into her heart.

"Not yet… Sorry love I just… I can't, I don't want to be scared of you, please?"

She nodded numbly before kissing him.

"I understand love… I just wanted to show you how much I love you, care for you, want you to be happy, all of that."

His arms wrapped around her, the one digit that had been inside her curiously dry, she guessed wandless magic. Hermione sighed as he pulled her close and nuzzled into her neck.

"This, this is what I need at the moment. I need to be close to you, I need to love you and be warm and safe."

She realized abruptly that the words coming from he wasn't the only communication he was trying to achieve. Images were rushing through her head, half imagined scenes and blurry faces, feelings of disgust and fear. She realized abruptly that these were his dreams, nightmares of that night.

"You've been having nightmares too? And you've been hiding them from me."

He cringed against her, as if expecting to be hit and she reassured him gently, she wasn't angry, just confused. A stab of anger at the Dursleys ripped through her.

"I didn't want you to have to deal with that, it's not your fight."

Now she was angry.

"Harry James Potter. How can you even begin to think that?"

She twisted over onto her side and cupped his face with both hands

"I love you; our souls are bound together with that love. I'm more a part of you than any other person will be and I share your mind just as you share mine. Anything, anything that's going on with you is my fight. Just like anything that happened to me would be your fight as well, because we are partners you and I, we do this together."

The initial flash of anger she had felt dissolved quickly to hurt, then sadness, and back to love and passion as she finished her mini speech. Harry's answering kiss was more than enough reassurance as he blew away all of those thoughts with his passion. Their lips clashed together, tongues battled and she submitted happily to his onslaught and when they broke apart they were panting hard, foreheads touching and looking into each other's eyes. The fire in his gaze made her breath catch and her tummy tremble.

"I love you, Hermione Jean Granger, always."

When he slid down beneath the covers she grinned and slid her fingers into his hair as he moved between her legs. Oh how she loved her man.

-:- Lemon ends -:-

A routine was established. Every second day in the morning Tonks would drive to their house. They would time turn back to Number twelve, and then, after training, they would time turn back to Oxford in the evening using the next day to recover from their near thirty hour days. The evenings would result in them getting closer and closer intimately each night, it was like the beginning of last year with them experimenting with each other, just much slower and more hesitant. Harry still couldn't have her touch him sexually without seizing, twice she had had to clear his airways with a spell when he had begun involuntarily choking, the memory of being unable to breath coming back full force.

It was hard for them both, but they opened up to one another and, gradually, the nightmares disappeared. Sirius, of all people, was a huge help in that respect as he often spent time talking with the teens about his recovery from Azkaban and how he dealt with those nightmares. Many times Hermione wanted to talk to Dumbledore and see if he knew of a way to make this easier, she reasoned that a six hundred year old man might have an answer to their pain. Unfortunately the teens didn't see him again all summer.

The answer turned out to be time, as the days turned into weeks the nightmares and pain disappeared and they became more at ease with one another. Hermione found that their morning runs were a good time to get rid of some of the pain they dealt with, much the same as they had during the school term they ended up using their runs as a time to share their days and memories with one another, making sure they were open an honest about everything that was going on or they may have neglected to mention in the past.

They were now limiting their runs to an hour and a half each morning, they could run for much greater distances but it ended up consuming too much of their day with unnecessary exercise. Hermione, much to her chagrin, had also begun losing her curves and had a much more tomboyish frame than she would like so she purposefully cut back on her additional exercise to let her more feminine attributes rear their head again. Harry made sure she ate plenty as well.

Other girls might think he was trying to fatten them, but Hermione knew that he was aware of her distress and was determined to make it as easy for her as possible to regain the figure she wanted. She had more than enough self-control not to eat more than she needed and was smart enough to know that eating properly was healthy for her so she took no offense when he added a bit extra to her plate at lunch time or dinner.

In much the same way Harry's body was far too lean, he was wiry and thin with the muscles of a runner rather than those of a healthy teenager so Hermione took it upon herself to make sure he ate more red meat in the evenings rather than fish or chicken, and she finally relaxed her opinion on his breakfast fare, understanding that without it he might have worked himself to exhaustion several times over the summer.

-:-

Their studies progressed apace and soon they were comfortably duelling up to three people at once: Usually Mad Eye, Remus and Sirius. It was reassuring to know that they could deal with such skilled duellists, especially when the majority of death eaters weren't half so skilled. Hermione continued to be frustrated with her progress however and Harry took the lion's share of the effort in their duels. One day it got a bit much for her and she stormed from the training room. Having an idea of what was going on Harry followed her to the library where she sat on a window seat and stared resolutely out into the summer rain.

Harry grinned at her posture, annoyed but ready to grab him in a hug as soon as he got close enough, one hand was even stretched out to him as he got closer. He happily let her grab him and reel him in to her warm embrace. His own hands slid around her and she groaned happily at the feeling of his wiry arms supporting her whole weight easily against him.

"I get why you're angry love, but I don't think you're thinking this through."

Hermione didn't turn around but he got a mental twitch from her that he knew meant for him to keep talking.

"Mad eye is a hundred and thirty, Remus is a werewolf, and while Sirius is fully recovered from Azkaban and a powerful wizard to boot. They're all fully grown and fully trained wizards love, we're only school children. Why then can I go toe to toe with them and you can't on your own? Because I have you, I have this burning power within me that stems from our bond sweetheart. It forces me to fight for you, to keep you safe, to beat the slimy faced old coot and come back to you at the end of this. You have it too, you're just not reaching for it because you're not used to it."

She did turn then and fixed him with a slightly annoyed glare.

"So why are you so used to it then? Why does it come so naturally to you?"

He blushed, the colour rising in his cheeks even as he smiled

"Because I've always reached for it, ever since I started to learn magic I've loved you, I loved Ron too, but more as a brother than… well I'm sure you know well enough by now."

She chuckled before sinking back against his chest, letting him talk.

"After I Ron on the train and he stuck with me, I had a friend for the first time in my life. He was my whole family at that point, after Hagrid he was the only person I'd ever been able to trust and talk to. When we rescued you from the troll and you became my friend, my confidant, you became my family too, you became my rock, my centre, the person I could turn to when everything was going pear shaped, and for as long as I can remember you two have been the ones I've reached for in my mind when I've gone to cast magic, your memories have always powered my spells."

Her slightly shocked expression made him laugh slightly.

"I'd wager you reach for your core when you go to cast magic, that logical centre of your mind where everything seems right? I reach for my emotions, always have done. Your mum told me about how your accidental magic was all about things being the way you wanted them, building blocks going into patterns you liked, books going back into book shelves properly, all that kind of thing. My accidental magic has always been about emotion, when I'm scared, or angry, that's what does it. When I'm casting consciously, I reach for my love of you."

He was a bit blinded a second later when she threw herself into his arms and held him tightly to her, laughing into his chest.

"You're such an enigma Harry Potter; you shouldn't even be able to do that yet. Most wizards can't do that until at least newt level, that's why you can cast a patronus so early isn't it? You already had the skill. Oh you are so frustrating sometimes."

He couldn't help but laugh at that

"Harry you're simply a wonder. I was asking Remus early why most people couldn't cast a patronus, it seemed like it would be such an easy thing to cast; the arithmantic power levels aren't even that high. He told me that most adults can't actually reach for their emotions in a magical sense because as teenagers they never honed the skill properly. Wizarding culture is a lot more interested in teens controlling their emotions than letting loose with them as opposed to the Muggle world where we're it's expected that teens will go a little wild.

From a young age you're unlocked an ability that many wizards will never have access to, it's so exciting!"

Harry grinned into her hair as she finished her spiel

"Are you ready to come back and keep practising then love?"

She swatted him on the arm before laughing and getting up from the window seat.

"Let's go then my lovely man."

-:-

On the odd day they would find themselves sitting in the drawing room of the old manor at Grimmauld place, just talking to Sirius. Remus had other jobs he was involved in for the order and was looking more and more worn out every week, as did Mad Eye, but Sirius was cooped up and frequently wanted to just sit and talk with his godson and the girl who had captured his heart. He told them stories about his youth, his dad and his mum, the marauders and the pranks they pulled. Mention of Peter was carefully avoided. In return Harry and Hermione shared stories of their own time at Hogwarts so far and the things they had been caught up in. Sirius was particularly amused by the tale of the polyjuice potion gone wrong and for weeks afterward he would meow cheekily in greeting to Hermione.

They settled into an easy camaraderie with Sirius, much the same as they had with each other, just without the romantic moments. He became something of a second (Or was that third?) father to Harry and the young man truly felt loved by those around him. They never really got to know Tonks, as they never really spent much time with her, but they were constantly put at ease by her bubbly personality.

One day in mid-July however Hermione got a bit of a shock when Sirius pulled her aside from the training room and asked her to block Harry out for a second. She shot him a sceptical look but did as he asked and indicated he should talk.

"Hermione has Harry ever had a birthday party?"

She looked stricken, they had gone to the play last year for his birthday but she knew full well that he had never had any kind of actual party. Her eyes were full of remorse as she answered him

"No, never."

Sirius' grin however was enough to make her smile in turn, although a bit nervously, the man was a marauder after all.

"Then we'll just have to throw him one. Have you two got any other close friends?"

Hermione frowned at that, the answer was both simple and complex; Neville was something of a friend, but really, he was more of an ally, the Weasley twins were friends, but they had grown distant. Fleur would have been a friend but… well she wasn't really around. And of course Ron, but he wasn't with them anymore either.

"None that we would want at his birthday."

Sirius frowned, but nodded. She was sure that he recognized that they had lost friends recently so he didn't push.

"Then we'll just have to have it at Oxford, Remus will be there, I'll turn up, I'm sure your parents would love to throw him his first party. We can make this a special day for him."

Hermione nodded, thoughts buzzing through her mind

"Will Alastor come?"

Sirius barked out his usual laugh

"Not likely, parties make him… twitchy."

She laughed at that thought, the ex auror was twitchy as it was; she hated to think what he would be like in such an environment.

"Quite right, we'd better be getting back before Harry really starts to wonder where we are, especially with me hiding this conversation from him."

Sirius nodded and shooed her back into the room where she was met with a barrage of spells. Grinning she raised her shield and waded back into the fray.

-:-

Emma and Dan for their part still had work to go to, but they had thrown themselves into getting to know Harry better in their free time as nearly losing him so soon after meeting the wonderful boy had shocked them and made them strive to become closer to their adopted son. One thing that had shocked both of them was the return of Emma's libido. Dan's had never really been a huge thing, especially after his injury but with the dental practise, the stress over Hermione being magical and the general stress of raising a child, especially one as tenacious as Hermione; Emma's sex drive had waned rapidly after Hermione's birth.

But something unknown to Emma had happened in the last few months to bring it howling back and the two adults had been indulging themselves in the newfound feelings of excitement between them that rekindled their love for one another in a big way and brought back a spark to their relationship they hadn't known had been missing.

Dan knew truly, what the difference was, although he hesitated to mention it to Emma for fear of getting her hopes up when there might not be any real hope at all. While they had been staying at the school he had asked the nurse if there was anything she could do magically to fix his damaged reproductive organs. She had cast a few spells with her wand but he had no real idea what had happened except a weird twitch in his groin. She had said she did all she could and Dan fervently hoped that it was enough.

Harry had brought back to him his desire for a son, and while the young man was truly wonderful and filled a whole in Dan's life, he wasn't Dan's own. He would never tell the young man, understanding fully that it would crush him and Dan didn't want that. The thought was there though and he couldn't shake it off.

-:-

Harry was having a ball. This summer, while not quite as outright fun as his last one had been, was more than enough to keep him entertained, and he was duelling! It was so much fun to be in the training room and really let rip with his magic (Albeit through a practise wand) and duel Moody, Remus and Sirius to a standstill.

He had been modifying his mechanical spider too. The magically driven familiar was constant presence now; fortunately Hedwig was taking it in stride, apparently happy that the strange little thing could not deliver mail. Harry had added several functions to the small device, including a magically driven grapple and winch which allowed it to scale almost any surface in total silence. The grapple, rather than being a spike or other furniture destroying object, was a thin band of sticky strands that splayed out in flight then, by using momentum as an aid, snapped forwards once the end of the tether hit something, firmly adhering themselves to the target. When the spider let the object go the magical adhesive released it from whatever it was holding on to. Crookshanks had taken to playing with the strange little thing, chasing it around, tipping it over and generally making a nuisance of him. Eventually Harry took pity on his small creation and installed a laser light that had given the whole family hours of amusement watching Crookshanks go mad trying to catch the tiny red dot. Harry sometimes swore the spider had magical sentience rather than an elaborate set of responses Harry had charmed the device with, as well as the option for direct control.

A vision switching charm was placed on a small crystal next to the spider's head and Harry could activate the charm to see through its eyes for brief periods of time and could manually control it with some carefully inscribed runic clusters that, when activated, turned his wand into a kind of remote control. Much to his amusement the project had earned him full marks from all the teachers involved in the project even before the holidays and all his additional tinkering.

He was of course already using his watch that was an early birthday present from Hermione. She had been slightly teary when presenting him with the gorgeous golden pocket watch that had tiny lightning bolts for arrow heads on the hands. The clock face had several magical meters on it, one that spiked when in the presence of magical wards, another that was bound to Hermione and constantly listed the distance and bearing of her location from him at any given time. The watch had earned Hermione top marks as well as it kept perfect time and never required winding.

-:-

Harry's birthday was rolling around quickly and Hermione was getting more and more excited, she had already given him his watch as a present but she was sure that he would be overjoyed at the party they were throwing him. It wasn't particularly traditional, party games and the like were absent. Instead they were making the day about family and relaxation, two things they knew Harry adored.

Sirius had suggested taking him to a Quidditch game but with the anniversary of Ron's death so close by Hermione felt the memories would ruin the day. When Sirius suggested the idea to Emma Granger however the older woman gently reminded Hermione that Harry would probably want to remember Ron on his birthday as there was barely a week that passed by when either of the two teens did not miss their friend.

So it was that when the day rolled around they spent a great deal of time simply together, chatting around the sitting room, swapping stories and doing their best to keep Harry relaxed. Later when lunchtime rolled around Sirius took them via portkey to the Holyhead Harpies/Tutshill Tornados game that was going on Harry was personally more of a Puddlemere fan after he found out that his father was the same. However because the Tornados were based most closely to Oxford the family as a whole ended up supporting them. Harry was amused by the fact that Hermione ended up being such a fond supporter of the team in later years.

As expected memories of the world cup darkened the trip but Harry profusely thanked the whole family for the day when they got home. As one final gift the Granger parents showed Harry into the teen's room where they had been working on something while the rest of the family was at the Quidditch game (Muggles couldn't attend) and Harry was stunned to see that they had organized a small work table and overhead lamp for him to tinker on, as well as a bucket full of slate that he could transfigure. Such a physical affirmation of his presence in their lives overwhelmed him a little and he had to sit down heavily as the family engulfed him in a hug.

Later that night (After Harry had begun transfiguring some slate into small parts for his next project) and the two teens lay together in their bed Hermione turned to him and kissed him softly. In his ear she whispered softly.

"I was hoping to give you another present tonight love, here in our bed."

Harry looked at her with tenderness in his eyes before leaning forwards to kiss her softly.

"A rain check please sweetheart? I'll be ready again, soon, but not now, can we just hold each other? Please? I need you close to me."

Hermione was more than happy to hold her love under the warm duvet as they drifted off to sleep, and for the first time in months, Harry stripped off his singlet and lay in her arms bare-chested. Yes, today had been perfect.

-:-

AN3: Hi all! This feels like a bit of a filler chapter before the real meat of the story starts, but if covers a slew of issues that the characters had between each other and it was a nice place to subtly start some other side plots.

AN4: Review Responses (From now on I'll only reply to reviews from this story.)

Starboy: Thank you! Here's another bit, hope you enjoy it.

Anotherboarduser: It is indeed! I'm not a huge fan of putting action in the first couple of chapters; I feel they should build the story more before things get nasty. If you remember the first chapter of World of Deceit was equally slow, although a bit more gory.

Joelfang: Indeed it does :D

Specky Clarke: No sweat, I'm much the same.

Vegasman: Indeed I do ;) And yeah, no lie that was part of the reason for it, I like screwing with those two. Glad to hear you like it, hopefully this is more of the same.

Alright welp, that's it for another chapter. This story is still up for Beta adoption, I've had a couple of offers but I'm waiting for a heads up from Texan-Muggle before I commit the story to another Beta

Thanks for Reading and other Shenanigans, the end of summer and some more information about what's going on in Epine land will follow in Chapter three: Darkness

LGreymark


	3. Darkness

AN: Yanno, if I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing my own crap ass novel, so obv I don't.

-:-

Chapter Three: Darkness

The residents of Little Whinging were finally settling down, nothing had happened since that appalling Dursley family had been hauled off by the police, their home just sat there, untouched, and life was going back to normal after all that excitement. But Little Whinging, like four other towns across England, was about to be woken up in a very grim manner.

The pitch darkness of the early morning was lit up with a flash of light accompanied by whiplash cracks echo down the street as half a dozen figures in black robes seem to unfold them from the air and stand tall, short rods of wood in their hands. As one they hold aloft their instruments and a deep, sonorous droning can be heard rising from the group. Doors open all down the street and men step out to get a better look at the weirdoes disturbing their Saturday night.

Abruptly the pitch of the droning changes, rapidly climbing into a high pitched keening wail, like the sound of an air raid siren. The pitch keeps climbing, unceasingly and mercilessly as mundanes all down the street fall to the ground clutching at their ears and yelling for it to stop. All of a sudden the horrific sound stops and the men and women relax slightly, dabbing at their ears for a moment to see if they can find any blood when a sound like tearing tinfoil fills the air at great volume and with a flash of darkness that seems to rip all the light from the street for a moment, dozens of much thinner figures, skeletons in fact, materialize on the pavement.

Screams immediately rend the air as the skeletons leap like insects, covering tens of meters with each jump to land in front of, or on top of mundane men and woman climbing to their feet. With horrifying strength arms and limbs are ripped from bodies, heads are torn from shoulders and the chatter of skeletal teeth is heard like an eerie constant rattle, reminiscent of the sound of rain upon steel.

Doors are slammed as people run inside, only to be blasted open by the figures in black to allow the terrifyingly agile skeletons entrance into the homes. Some can't wait for the doors to be removed and simply dive headfirst through windows.

The retort of gunfire fills the air and one of the figures in black slumps forwards clutching at their stomach. The mundane responsible for the shot is quickly swarmed by multiple skeletons and the man is brought down screaming, those screams abruptly cease when one of the skeletons twists off the man's head with a sharp motion of its bony hands.

Soon there are no survivors. The sound of sirens fills the air as the bobbies approach, responding to the distressed and hysterical calls from the few residents of the street who managed to get to their phones before they were brutally cut down.

One house in particular, number four in fact, is ruined beyond recognition, the new residents of the home flayed, butchered, and left, boneless and skinless, to bleed out into the gutter. When the police finally arrive at the scene there are no residents left alive, the gutters run red with blood and water from broken taps spraying fluid onto the streets with arterial force. The scene is truly one of a charnel house and the culprits have vanished, the only sign of their passing the destruction they left in their wake, and a tiny speckle of blood where the injured death eater had bled onto the pavement.

Chudley, Godric's hollow and a miniscule and little known town on the Orkney islands suffer the same fate; fortunately the Weasley's home in the environs of Ottery St Catchpole is left undisturbed though it is only a few kilometres from the disturbance in Chudley, Godric's Hollow is left completely devoid of life, and in that tiny town on the island known as 'The Mainland', only one manor home is left undisturbed. A Fidelius ensconced building by the name of Longbottom manor.

-:-

In the sleepy suburbs of Oxford the residents of number seven Grove Street were totally oblivious to the terror sweeping parts of England and Ireland, and wouldn't be aware of it until much later once the morning news aired and the Daily Prophet winged its way into the Granger Residence. When they did learn of the events of the morning past however, the house was silent and grim as the four people sitting around the table at breakfast digested the morning's news. Eventually Harry spoke, breaking the contemplative quiet.

"So that's it then, he's unleashed his forces against England. Look at the locations, Little Whinging, Chudley, Godric's hollow, even Orkney. This is a statement; all those places have some link to me, save the Orkney Islands. The Weasley's live near Chudley, I used to live in Little Whinging, and he'll know I'm not there now. And of course Godric's hollow."

Hermione watched, saddened as Harry's head slumped forwards onto his forearms and she wrapped an arm around his waist, silently supporting him in their minds. Aloud she spoke in her soft tones her parents looked aghast

"We'd have been attacked too had it not been for the Fidelius we're under now. We just escaped really. They probably have no idea I even live in Oxford anymore."

Harry took a huge shaky breath and she could feel his shoulders tensing, his thoughts were roiling but there was a definite direction to them, she was having trouble picking it out though.

"I'd forgotten what today was, it's the anniversary of Ron's death. This isn't Voldemort's plan, it's that of Valmortis. The order thinks Voldemort is hung up trying to get hold of the prophecy, I believe them. He wouldn't have had thought to spare for this."

Hermione nodded, agreeing with his general thoughts, it bothered her how messy the killings had been though. It wasn't that she was squeamish, far from it. While blood wasn't exactly a welcome sight it wasn't alien to her. Rather what bothered her was the incongruity of the gory nature of the killings. Death Eaters were somewhat averse to bloodshed, preferring to kill cleanly with the Avada Kedavra. In everything she had read, all the history texts and anecdotal evidence supported the use of clean bloodless kills by the Death Eaters.

She had thought about it a great deal and finally come to the conclusion that because of their fanaticism and fascination with killing muggleborns they didn't want to chance getting dirty blood on them in their slaughters. The bloody nature of the killings all across the country suggested that they were not killed by Death Eaters, probably magical creatures then, or mercenaries from overseas. Either way Voldemort's ranks swelled with each passing day.

She felt her man shifting under her hand and turned her head to see him gazing down at the paper, one of his long fingers jabbed at a piece of the parchment.

"See what's happening? They're blaming this on Death Eater remnants; Dumbledore hasn't gotten through to the Wizengamot yet for an official release. Valmortis and Voldemort can keep striking at innocents with impunity and they'll be caught completely off guard."

Hermione nodded to herself as he kept speaking, she couldn't help but be proud of how he was analysing the situation. He had grown of late.

"They started with attacks against me, on the anniversary of Ron's death. Valmortis won't be random, he'll have a plan. His next targets might be main shopping centre, Diagon alley, Hogsmeade, Maybe even the Glen in Scotland where the locals do their shopping. He'll want to put fear into wizarding Britain, keep the sheep paralyzed while they orchestrate their next moves, unhindered and unseen."

It was straightforward and somewhat terrifying, not least of the fact being that they had no way of stopping it, Hermione spoke a handful of words that made her boyfriend nod in agreement firmly.

"We need to tell Dumbledore."

-:-

"…This bears thinking about, thank you for this Harry, Hermione. You've both proven your maturity again today with this. We've been so focused on Voldemort and keeping the prophecy away from him we forgot totally about Valmortis and his own ability to manoeuvre, it won't happen again.

Regards  
Albus"

Harry set down the letter and Hermione sent him a burst of affection through their bond. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful for Dumbledore's words or a little worried that they really hadn't thought of this earlier. Was the order so blinkered by the need to protect this prophecy that they were blind to all else? What was stopping them from simply destroying the ruddy thing and putting it out of reach of Voldemort permanently?

'If Voldemort isn't searching for the prophecy, bending his will towards it, then it will free him up to begin his assault on magical Britain, whilst his mind is bent on the prophecy, we have time."

Hermione's cool, clean logic cut through the haze of Harry's meandering thoughts.

"While the Death Eaters skulk in the shadows trying to circumvent the order's guards they are not killing and ruining any hope we have of surviving the coming war. The ministry is ill equipped; the Order is locked down fighting this Wizarding cold war. We need people we can trust sweetheart, trained fighters who we can stand alongside when things get grim. We need an aware populace of people in hiding from Valmortis' tricks, and we need to stay calm."

Harry felt her hands cup his rough cheeks but he kept his gaze downcast, unwilling to let her see the guilt in his eyes at the hundreds of deaths that had occurred this morning.

"You need to stay calm my love, you need to remain with me, in the here and now, and not get bogged down with guilt. I need you."

Finally his eyes opened and he met her eyes with his own, they were glistening with unshed tears of worry and her mouth was set in a thin line, her bottom lip trembling with tension. He swept forwards, his arms encircling her and pulling her close to his chest, whereupon she snuggled close, her arms sliding around his neck, one hand pressing firmly against his back, the other tangling in his hair and holding him close to her. They stayed like that for quite a while, their parents were already at work and the two storey townhouse was quiet while the two teens reaffirmed themselves to one another.

When finally they broke apart Hermione took his hand and tugged him to standing.

"Let's get some takeaways tonight love. Fish and chips sound good. I want to sit with you in front of the telly tonight, away from all of the killing. I want to just be normal for one night before everything goes to hell. We'll call mum and dad later and tell them what's going on, but in the meanwhile, let's spend some time in town."

Harry could only nod numbly and take a gulp of air before she whisked them away to their room to prepare for the trip out into town.

-:-

The day passed in remarkably cheerful fashion. After their morning of grieving for the dead Hermione refused to let Harry fall into a fit of depression as she knew he was prone to do. Her man was not perfect, and this was one of his biggest flaws, fortunately she knew the remedy, lots and lots of kissing.

They spent the day wandering the streets of Oxford as they were wanted to do and as they had done most of the previous summer. They meandered all the way to the university whereupon they spent the afternoon sitting on the edge of one of the bridges and laughed at the children throwing bread to the ducks and fish.

It was particularly normal and very muggle. They abstained from using magic all day, just existing as ordinary teenagers enjoying each other's company. They even made the effort to talk aloud instead of retreating into their bond. It was somewhat idyllic for them, and they managed to have no further thought of the coming conflict that night, nothing beyond passing recognition at any rate.

The evening saw the family surrounding the television in the family room, the teens snuggled on the couch, and Emma curled up against Dan on the loveseat. Dan of course resolutely refused to 'snuggle' in front of the kids, but they all knew his arms was wrapped around Emma's waist and was lightly stroking her side.

When the teens retired to their room Hermione sat against the headboard and pulled out her latest novel to read and Harry say comfortably at his workstation. It was the beginning of established routine between them as Hermione read and her man tinkered away with slate and magic, breaking the day's abstinence from the arcane. She smiled to herself as he leaned down and placed a small object on the ground. She tried to resist looking at it but curiosity got the better of her and she playfully huffed before putting her book down and turning to gaze at the tiny contraption.

She was immediately enthralled as its tiny head rose and looked around before a dozen tiny legs began powering it rapidly across the floor. The small creation rapidly reached the bed where it leaped up, startling Hermione into a small shriek before she collapsed into giggles at the sight of the tiny cute little machine.

It had incredible personality as it nosed up to her and curled up against her leg, a light thrumming purr coming from within the small contraption. She gazed intently at it and noticed a line of inscribed text on its back, her heart melted at the words.

'A tiny part of my love for you, so that it can be with you always'

Many more kisses were shared between them that night.

-:-

The summer holiday was ending, and with its passing came a palpable sense of loss. There had been two more attacks in the days following the initial massacres, one at Diagon alley, and one just outside Hogsmeade. The Prophet was in hysterics the public was running scared, Harry and Hermione were both dreading the return to school. Not for their own safety, but because they were leaving their parents behind.

It was irrational, they had the protection of the Fidelius charm, and Harry would never give up their location. But the idea of leaving Dan and Emma behind whilst they went to school was something of a terror for both of them. The days leading up to the trip back to Hogwarts were filled with quiet communal silences between the four family members. Hermione in particular was distraught about leaving, for all her cool logic her mind was scrambled in the face of the impending threat.

Harry did his best to remain strong for her, to be the rock she needed during her upheaval; but even he was struggling, his iron will only just keeping him together before the terror Valmortis' still unidentified shock troops had instilled in the populace of Wizarding Britain. It had gotten so bad that even the Muggles were terrified and police presence in mundane England was at an all-time high.

Training didn't stop. The two teens worked themselves, if possible even harder, Mad Eye could no longer fight Hermione alone and win a hundred percent of the time, and their victories were sitting around half and half to either side. Harry took all comers, only Albus could beat him in single combat now, and it took Mad Eye, Remus, and Sirius to beat him even occasionally in a three on one situation.

Harry's power was still growing every day, already a terrifically powerful sorcerer from his natural ability and personal fitness, his magical core was still growing, gaining in size and strength with every fight, every dawn, every meal. His wandless magic was incredible. Even Dumbledore claimed not to have the kind of power and control Harry had at this age. Truly Harry was only a stone's throw from Dumbledore's current ability in terms of raw strength, but his skill and speed were still sorely lacking.

To watch him duel though, was to watch an ancient god of war brought down to earth for one final battle. He moved with such astonishing speed that Hermione could nary keep up with his thoughts, let alone his body as he moved in the duelling circle. The teens had been taught apparition and Harry used it to devastating effect, weaving spells around his opponent's shields, striking them on multiple fronts nearly simultaneously. He was learning how to make his sorcery and spellcasting originate from distant locations, 'throwing' his spells much the same as a skilled actor or thief could throw their voice.

The first time he achieved it Sirius was caught unawares by a blasting sorcel that smacked him in the back of the head, knocking him out immediately. Harry had been standing in front of him at the time. Remus fell next, a jab obliterating his shield and the follow up cutter slicing across his neck and splaying him out on the ground. He would have been killed then in a traditional fight, as it was he blacked out as his windpipe was crushed. Hermione healed him quickly as he fell, Harry would be devastated if Remus was harmed in any lasting way.

Mad eye was last, grimly holding on, his shield the only thing betwixt the blinding lightshow of Harry's knowledge of spells and sorcery, and his own battered body. Hermione grinned as Mad Eye staggered backwards and his shield cracked audibly, Harry had him now.

Her man swept himself around and appeared behind Moody. The Ex Auror turned sharply to intercept but the point blank jab was too much for Moody's splintered shield and it shattered with a echoing crack, the magical backlash slamming the older man against the wall and knocking him cold from the trauma.

At the end of it Harry was left in the middle of the duelling circle, panting hard with sweat running down his face, a single cut above his eye where a conjured knife had slipped past his shield. Hermione knew that he had been battling through the blood obscuring his vision behind his glasses and she stepped forwards quickly to heal him and cleanse his eye before kissing him softly.

"Wake them, and do it again."

He turned to her, nodded once, and went to revive his fallen tutors. There was little they could teach him now, they were merely willing targets for his practise.

-:-

"Harry James Potter if you don't clean up this workstation you're sleeping on the couch."

Harry cringed, it was incredible how he could put three grown men on their arses but when Hermione was angry he became that little boy under the stairs again. She could see the pain in his eyes and she huffed in annoyance. It was so hard to be angry at him sometimes. She strode up to him and lifted his chin with one finger, looking into his eyes and was uncomfortably transported back in his memories to a time of pain and endless darkness.

The pain shocked her; she had never felt this from him before, it was as if the metal buckle of Vernon's belt was falling on her own back, not his. Gasping in shock she stumbled forwards into his arms, her eyes prickled as she looked up at him and his apologetic expression comforted her.

"Sorry love, I didn't mean for you to feel that."

She shook her head numbly, trying to intimate that it wasn't his fault. It was her turn to feel small and ashamed for bringing those feelings down on him, but just as she had done for him, Harry tilted her chin up and gazed into her eyes, showing his remorse.

"This isn't your fault. I love you, and I'll go clean up the workstation, I have let it get out of hand."

She stepped into him and hugged him close to her body, never wanting to let him go.

"I love you too Harry. I'm so glad we got you away from those people."

"Me too gorgeous, me too"

-:-

One thing Hermione still hadn't been able to share with Harry, a secret that burned at her conscious to keep, but that she was unable to share; was his mother's diary. That thin, but incredibly expansive tome was the sum knowledge of the muggle born Lily Potter, and her words of advice and guidance for whoever would be Harry's love.

She had poured over the book for hours at a time, Harry only seeing a novel, or a textbook, and the object passing from his mind the moment his gaze shifted from it. It was a treasure trove of knowledge, information on wizarding law, customs, secrets of runes and Arithmancy uncovered by one of the most intelligent witches the world had ever known. Much of it was still beyond Hermione, she could only understand the most superficial of concepts that Lily talked about in her extended dissertations, but the knowledge that was open to her now, the things she could understand, the things she could use. They were priceless.

Already she had begun to act differently, she would be the head of Harry's household one day, subordinate only to him and even then only in law, in all else they would be equals. She had begun to keep a journal of her own, a ledger of expenses and expenditure. She planned to keep records of correspondence, and she was negotiating with the Goblins about releasing the details of Harry's vaults to her. Their bonding was clear to the Goblins, but they were still beating around the bush about something Hermione was unaware of.

Some of the things she learned made dealing with Harry's moods easier, apparently he was very much like his father; instinctually noble, powerful, gentle to those he cared for, but stubborn, carried a grudge for life and took on more than his share of responsibility for the actions of others and the fates of those he felt he should care for. Lily had written multiple entries towards the end of the first war where James had been nearly incapacitated with grief after losing members of the Order of which he was one of the de facto leaders after Dumbledore.

Lily had many tips and small bits of advice for calming down her son should he turn out like James, Potter men apparently shared many of the same characteristics. Hermione smiled at the thought of her sons one day bearing those same traits before she mentally slapped herself on the wrist, it was far too early to be clucky. Much to Hermione's relief Lily had also included many handfuls of charms relating to personal grooming and beatification that were designed to quicken the transition into a 'lady' should Hermione need to attend any formal events. Hermione wasn't particularly geared towards that kind of activity and it was more than a small weight of her shoulders to have her late future mother in law covering those bases for her. It was as if Lily knew Harry's future wife would be similar to herself, another trait of Potter men apparently; being attracted to witty intelligent and passionate women who weren't particularly fussy about their looks.

The biggest shock had been the massive Grimoire of rituals, Lily Potter it turned out was an avid researcher of ritual based magic, and Hermione guessed, although could not be sure, that one of these rituals was responsible for Harry's survival fourteen years ago. Hermione could see herself performing many of these rituals in the future, none of them seemed Dark per se, simply forgotten and lost to the mists of time; overrun by Ministry approved magic and patented spells. Simpler, more efficient times had barrelled past the rituals of old to take centre stage, but while they were not fast, or convenient. Perhaps one of them could be the answer to the struggle they faced.

The book was a treasure, something she would keep safe for the rest of her life if need be. When Harry came of age, she would share it with him; give him the thoughts of his biological mother to cherish. She had no doubt that he would return it to her care in due time, he was just that kind of man.

-:-

School letters arrived a week before the teens were due to ship out. They were later then usual and the family was almost unable to make the trip into London in time. The trip was not one made on a whim by the family as the car ride in each direction totalled five hours, they had to leave early in the morning to get to Diagon alley in time to do any shopping at all and the trip took up an entire day. Usually this would be done on a weekend as Dan and Emma often had full schedules during the week and weren't free to travel.

Fortunately Tonks was due to arrive that day and it made it far easier for the kids to simply go to Grimmauld then Floo to Gringotts to do their day's shopping before heading home. One surprise for both teens was the shiny gold and red badge that slid from each of their envelopes. The accompanying letter describing their selection as the fifth year Gryffindor prefects took both of them by surprise at the time, but it was agreed later that with Dean and Ron gone, and Seamus and Neville being somewhat under the radar, Harry was the only logical choice for the male prefect. Hermione of course was a shoe in.

They decided to splurge a little and grab something for themselves as a sort of reward. Harry purchased a magical metalworking instructional text and some magical jeweller's tools. Hermione much to Harry's shock brought herself a broom. A fairly sedate Cleansweep, but it was a broom nonetheless. Dan later joked that Hermione now finally had the full traditional package, cat familiar, broom, and even a pointy hat.

-:-

Remus's presence at Grimmauld place was spotty at best, he sometimes arrived in the evening, battered and covered in cuts, or clad in rags. He would never speak to the teens during these times, only after he had been healed, debriefed and relaxed would he come to the training room to assist in Harry and Hermione's tutoring. One night, two days before they were due to head back to Hogwarts, the teens learned why he had been so secretive.

Remus had been away for a full two days, and as the teens were practising their melded spell chains they heard a great commotion in the entrance hall. The horrific shrieking of Sirius' mother echoed through the house before they were abruptly shut off. Harry was out the door in an instant, he could hear Hermione's feet on the stairs behind him as he thundered down them wand drawn and ready for anything.

What met his gaze shocked him to the bone and made him stumble on the steps, his hand blindly grasping at the handrail as he nearly loses his footing. Remus was slumped between Sirius and Kingsley blood pouring down his front from a wound in the hollow of his throat, the skin there mangled by multiple rows of puncture wounds that festered with horrific white foam. Sirius' agonized shout brought Dumbledore out from the kitchen.

"ALBUS! Greyback challenged Remus!"

The hallways was suddenly a hive of activity as Remus was ushered into the kitchen and laid out on the table, documents hastily moved out of the way as he convulsed in Sirius Kingsley's grip whilst they held him down. Remus's eyes were rolling madly and a weirdly elongated tongue was lolling out of his mouth in an uncontrolled pant. His muscles were bunching randomly and spasms were wracking his muscular frame. The same white froth was gathering at the sides of his lips as he shivered and his teeth chattered together. Harry had never seen someone beyond pain before, but this was about as close as it got.

He and Hermione were shoved none too gently out of the room as half a dozen Order members started casting spells rapid fire at the werewolf, Harry had a start as he realized it was a full moon tonight, why wasn't Remus still a wolf? Hermione answered his question without missing a beat.

"It's leaving him Harry, whatever is in that wound is purging the wolf from his system, and once it's gone, he'll die. His body can't survive without it anymore, they're going to have to cleanse him, and then re-infect him with the curse."

Harry looked sideways at her, where had she learned that? He disregarded the thought as soon as it came and simply wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close. It was a mark of how much they had grown in the last few weeks that neither of them turned from the sight of Remus thrashing on the kitchen table while the Order members worked to save his life.

-:-

It took the Order four hours to save Remus, spells cast, sorceries wrought upon him. And finally he was injected, with a muggle syringe of all things, with a brackish fluid that looked putrid. Before Hermione could ask what the liquid was Remus was levitated through a door and down a set of stairs into a room where he was sealed in. She heard a spine chilling howl just before the door slammed shut, a howl she had heard only once before two years ago.

Sirius came to them then, and steered them towards the kitchen where they sat. The table had been cleaned again just moments ago, all trace of Remus' blood gone from the surface, but Hermione didn't know if she would ever be able to eat there again. She felt Harry's hand, it could only be his hand with those broomstick callouses, close around hers gently and a half moment later his thumb began to brush across her skin lightly, she melted at his touch as always and relaxed against him, letting out the tension she didn't know she had harboured.

"He'll be fine."

The simple sentence was enough to purge the rest of the tension from her frame and she wilted against Harry somewhat, her arm wrapping around his waist and holding tight. She had grown quite close to Remus; he was still her favourite DADA professor after all. More than that though, he and Sirius were two of the last links to Harry's family, the closest she would get to fathers in law one day. Remus was special to both of them.

It was at that moment that Tonks opened the front door and wandered into the kitchen, sat down heavily and looked around at everyone's relieved faces.

"Wotcher, Merlin, you can't all be this happy to see me. An' what happened to ol' Mrs Black in the hallway."

Hermione couldn't help but burst out laughing.

-:-

Greyback's challenging of Remus for the alpha position in the pack Remus had infiltrated ended up being a blow to the Order, now Remus wouldn't be able to show his face in the pack again, else he'd be run down and killed, and if Greyback knew he was still alive, the vicious creature wouldn't hesitate to finish the job.

The Order now had no presence within the werewolf packs. The vampires were apparently on the move, rumours abounded of a new British vampire queen. More powerful than the diluted modern vampires who could no longer summon the strength to walk in the sun. The giants were on the move, Hagrid had sent word that negotiations had broken down and they were leaving the mountains. Rumour was that the Dementors had started to leave Azkaban as well. Voldemort was calling his forces to him, between whatever was causing the attacks that had plagued wizarding Britain, and the hordes of magical creatures flocking to his side; Voldemort was nearly ready to begin his war.

As Tolkien once said in his epic, the board was set, and the pieces were moving.

Hermione just hoped that Harry's piece wasn't taken.

-:-

Harry lay back against the stiffly padded seat in the compartment he and Hermione had found. The prefect meeting was over and they had performed their rounds. The train was in the last leg of its journey now and Hermione had taken the chance to nap against him, her head resting on his shoulder and her mouth slightly open, her tiny spider like robot was sitting in her lap. Up until a few minutes ago a multitude of the tiny things had been crawling around. He had been trying to perfect his designs of the miniscule creatures but he didn't have the heart to 'put them down' as it were, so their numbers were growing and he had to keep them locked away in a cage most of the time.

Hermione loved the things, he often found her late at night, commanding legions of the tiny things across tables or tiled floors. They were hugely varied in size, anything from the size of a softball to the smallest of his creations, a positively minute four legged creation half the size of a pea that he spent nearly six hours across four days working on with his new magical tools.

It had become something of a hobby, a self-examined test of his skill whenever he sat at that table to tinker. He would have to see if something similar could be arranged at Hogwarts. He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge his errant train of thought. This was getting him nowhere, this mental meandering. Renewed of purpose he focused inward, concentrating on his bond with Hermione. Moody had set them an exercise to do with one another while asleep. Supposedly it should increase their mental defences, not from one another, but rather from outside threats.

He gently sifted through her thoughts, her dreams, her memories, being careful not to wake her but memorising where everything was in her mind, how it was organized. It was a collosal task, one he would not complete until they were old and grey, but every little bit helped. Hermione's perusal of his own mind was slower as he slept less often, but she was also quicker than him able to process what she was seeing faster.

The purpose of this was twofold; on the one hand they would know immediately when someone was attempting to intrude on each other's minds when they knew the sum details of everything their partner was. On the other hand they would know each other perfectly, they barely quarrelled as it was but with these exercises they would become more one mind in two bodies, than two people merged together. Hermione especially was nervous about this. She was the most independent and independently strong person harry knew, and he knew that the idea of losing a part of herself in their blending was weighing on her heavily. He suspected they would fight about it at some point, but he wanted to delay that time as long as possible, to have as much time as he could to sift through her feelings on the matter so he could better understand her dissatisfaction.

Truly the thought of losing himself in her was something of a relief for Harry. She was the most wonderful, caring and passionate person he had ever met, to take a part of her being into himself to nurture for all time? For the boy who grew up under the stairs it was heaven, here was the family connection he had always craved, a true partner for his heart, and with her came her parents, Dan and Emma, who had already done so much to obliterate the pain of the past.

Her thoughts shifted, speeding up into wakefulness and Harry held her close, ensconcing her in the safety of his arms. She had once told him that she never wanted to wake up anywhere else than in his arms, and since she had said that to this day he had not disappointed her; it was something he felt great pride in.

Her sleepy kiss on the underside of his jaw brought him back to the present as it so often did.

"Who do you think the defence against the dark arts professor is going to be?"

Her sleepy question set off a riot of questions in his mind, who would fill the cursed faculty position? Mad Eye had confirmed that he wouldn't be coming back this year, they would be training with his instructions but until Christmas they wouldn't see him again.

"I have no idea sweetheart, then again it's not like I know all of the qualified instructors in Britain."

Hermione smiled at him and kissed his jaw again before snuggling back into his chest.

"I wish it was you."

Harry looked at her then, bewildered.

"Oh come off it Harry, you're a prodigy when it comes to that, you go toe to toe with Dumbledore to train for Merlin's sake. Admittedly he still mostly mops the floor with you but the fact that you're able to even hold your own is nearly beyond belief. If anyone was qualified to teach that course it would be you."

Harry looked at her questioningly.

"Yes, I'm a skilled duellist, and I have a pool of magical strength bigger than most. But DADA is more than just duelling love, you of all people know that, dark creatures, cursed items, venoficium, they're all things I don't have more than passing knowledge of. I know the syllabus, sure, but I don't think I could impart that knowledge to others."

He paused here, partly to collect his thoughts, partly for dramatic effect.

"Also, I'm pretty sure the seniors would get prissy about being taught by a fifth year."

Hermione laughed then, that wonderful bell-like noise that sent shivers of happiness through him. Grinning he moved close and kissed her softly, enjoying the taste of her upon his tongue and revelling in the warmth of her embrace. He didn't know what he would do if she didn't love him, fortunately, she did.

There was a rapping sound on the glass of the compartment door and the two teens broke apart slightly to usher in whoever was there. As it turned out it was Fred and George, having not heard from the twins for months Harry and Hermione were both a little shocked to see them, the two came in and sat down quietly.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the two younger teens unsure how to deal with this sombre pair of usually boisterous young men. Eventually they broke the silence

"We've missed you guys at the Burrow."

Harry was at a loss. Of all the things to hear and try and get their heads around this was the one thing they hadn't expected. Only one of the twins was speaking, a departure from their usual alternating speak, possibly a tribute to the seriousness of the other's voice

"I know we really only saw you briefly last year, and the year before you weren't even at the Burrow and Hermione didn't even come over the year before that. But you guys are family you know? When Ginny… When she potioned you harry, it hurt all of us. When Ron died… It meant the world to us that you were at the funeral. Gred and I, we've not really known how to approach you two after the trial. Mum's been inconsolable; Percy's disappeared off the face of the earth. Dad got rid of all his Muggle stuff, said it was 'Trivial'. We haven't been the same since all of that, as a family, and mum and dad didn't want to intrude on your holiday, but they did want us to tell you that we're still here if you need somewhere to stay, or someone to talk to. Okay?"

He let if there, hanging and neither Harry nor Hermione knew how to answer him. Eventually to two subdued pranksters left the compartment in silence, a sombre nod their only farewell. The rest of the train journey was quiet. Harry was a little sad, Neville never showed he had hoped that the withdrawn pureblood that had formed an alliance with them would come back and deepen the relationship to friends. The absence of Draco Malfoy was a relief though.

The train rolled on through the growing Scottish dark, Harry pondered, Hermione slept.

-:-

The arrival at Hogwarts was, to Harry, a surreal affair, as he handed Hermione down from the train and looked around he gazed upon the throngs of happy teenagers, most blissfully unaware of all that had gone on over the summer. He was quite sure that those under third year probably didn't even read the prophet on a regular basis. Little good that would do them, they wouldn't have the same exposure to the violence that the muggleborn children would have with the news report that had been uncommonly blunt.

That said as Harry looked around he noted a distinct lack of muggleborns, Justin Finch-Fletchley was missing, so was Kevin Entwhistle from Ravenclaw. A stab of pain shot through harry as he noted that Katie bell and the ever enthusiastic Creevey brothers were also absent. He slumped against the station wall, as if a blow to the gut had laid him low and Hermione was at his side at an instant, brushing his fringe back from his forehead and looking concernedly into his eyes.

"Are you alright love?"

He looked back at her, understanding now, that if he hadn't been living there, if the Fidelius hadn't been raised, she might not be here with him right now.

"Who's missing from this crowd Hermione? Look around; Katie Bell? Colin? Dennis? Justin? Kevin? There are probably more but Gryffindor has been gutted, Hufflepuff is looking grim. First generation witches and wizards all of them." He leaned forwards, his arms wrapping around her and holding her close.

"No one even knows. All these pureblood and halfblood kids, none of them even have an idea that their classmates won't be coming back. I came so close to losing you this summer sweetheart. Never mind the fact that you're my friend, my love. You're first generation magical, you could have been killed whether you knew me or not."

He felt Hermione tense in his arms, her own arms going taught with the strain and her breath catching in her throat. Furthermore he could feel her magic building. It was like a pressure behind his eyes, like a headache without the pain. Despite the fact that they forced themselves to speak vocally in public for proprietary's sake, they were constantly linked now and that Hermione had raised a sorcerous barrier around them both was plain as day to him. He then noticed blithely that he had done the same thing. Shaking slightly he took a deep breath and did his best to calm down. He was hoping that, like his fear had fed her own and made them both go on the defensive; his own calm would relax her.

It worked eventually and the two teenagers broke apart with tight expressions, Hermione slipped her arm into Harry's proffered one and they went to the nearest horseless carriage, which wasn't so horseless anymore. He and Hermione both stopped stock still, startled out of their funk by the strange sight. It wasn't until they thought hard about it that they realized only Harry could actually see the creatures, Hermione was just viewing them second-hand through Harry's eyes so natural did they overlap.

Quietly they got inside the carriage, both understanding that they needed to get out of the public eye before letting down their guard to discuss everything that had gone on. It was a long trip up to the castle; moreover, it was a painful one, and during that trip, both he and Hermione pledged to teach their classmates how to protect themselves in case more attacks happened, the fact that already some of them had been killed was a cause for great sorrow.

-:-

Fog had rolled up on the banks of the black lake, Harry was sure Hagrid would get the first years safely through but he personally wouldn't have wanted to be in the thick of it. Turning back to the castle he felt a pang of mixed emotions well up within him. Once this was his home, but with a full year's worth of loving family under his belt he recognised that this was, at best, a mid-way station; somewhere for him to refuel before moving on. And he had moved on, Emma and Dan were very much his parents now, not by birth certainly, but they had earned the title nonetheless.

Hogwarts now was nothing more to him than a school, a school with a host of memories attached to it, experiences both good and bad, some extremely bad. He and Hermione had briefly discussed moving to a different school, Beauxbatons was particularly appealing after Madame Maxine was removed from Headship pending investigation on threatening the lives of the champions during an international event. Neither of them particularly wanted to remain in Britain in one of the lesser wizarding schools and Durmstrang was… well, Durmstrang. So the Beauxbatons academy of magic was the only other real choice, the Beauxbatons students were even aware of Harry and apparently Fleur's sister Gabrielle still harboured a serious crush on him.

But here they were, going back to Hogwarts for a variety of reasons, not least of which the fact that they could still eke out some information and skills from Dumbledore and whoever he picked to teach defence against the dark arts. They were here, in the castle that had so many mixed memories, and it was going to be their hardest year yet, as Hermione had so aptly put it: 'Screw Voldemort, we have OWL's to worry about.'

Movement in the doorway caught Harry's attention and he set eyes upon a very wan Professor McGonagall looking around. Making eye contact with her she seemed to relax visibly, especially when she saw Hermione. She beckoned them inside the castle with a wave and waited as they ascended the steps. They were both a little shocked when she swept Hermione into a hug.

"I was so worried about you child, and I'm so thankful you're safe, when everyone forgot where you lived and the other muggleborns started disappearing I feared the worst. It's so good to see you well."

Harry felt Hermione's emotions welling up and he slipped an arm around her waist in support as the two witches parted their hug.

"I'm rather glad she's safe too Professor, did you have something you wanted to see us about?"

"Rather, and yes, with the situation of your relationship as it is and the accommodations you shared last year with Miss Granger, don't think we weren't aware of it. Professor Dumbledore and I as both the deputy head and your head of house have agreed that you can share those quarters again this year. But they are for the two of you only, we don't want to see you throwing any parties in those quarters and we trust you two not to break our trust on this matter, your luggage has been moved there already. We understand that your bond makes your relationship necessarily more intimate but we ask that you respect the school rules about physical relations in spite of that."

Hermione blushed heartily at this and swatted Harry away with her mind when he tried to mentally inquire as to her blush, giving him the impression she would explain when they were alone.

"Additionally with the new DADA teacher I ask that you both hold your tempers in check, she is not to be trifled with regardless of whom she works for."

With that last cryptic parting remark she disappeared into the throng of students, presumably to ready herself for the first year's arrival. Hermione tugged on his arm lightly and he conceded to her and allowed his girlfriend and bond mate to tug him into the Great Hall. Most of the students were already in the hall but it still felt empty. Only now it seemed were some of their housemates recognising the fact that over a dozen of their peers were missing from the assembly, empty seats noticed acutely by the entire house.

He and Hermione sat in silence, exchanging conversation in their minds while the school moved about them. Neville was sitting at the far end of the table, looking for the entire world like a lost puppy. Fred and George were holding court at the other end, seniors now in their final year they had revived some of their old exuberance to put up a good face. As the last Weasleys to pass through Hogwarts of this generation they must have felt a certain obligation.

Harry turned his attention to the staff table and scanned along it with his gaze, noting the usual teachers whilst he sought out the one person he wouldn't know. Eventually he spotted them at the far end of the table, strangely reminiscent of something he had seen on the television once the woman; he assumed it was a woman from McGonagall's cryptic remark earlier, was wearing a wide flat brimmed black hat that obscured her fact and a long royal blue double breasted overcoat. Her hands were a pale white but unadorned with rings or jewellery of any kind save for a thin band of silver around her right middle finger.

There was an air of foreboding about the woman, and Harry knew instinctively that McGonagall was right; this was a woman you didn't want to cross. He was startled when the woman shifted slightly and he caught a glimpse a red 'M' on the left breast pocket of her coat, a ministry worker, at Hogwarts? Things were getting stranger and stranger.

Hermione quietly agreed with him; things were indeed getting stranger. They resolved not to cross the quietly intimidating woman. As soon as they made this resolution, as if having been waiting for them to do so, Professor McGonagall opened the doors to the great hall and swept in, a couple of dozen first years at her heels following like the small children they were.

Harry could remember vividly his own terror in their shoes but noted with a thrill of worry that there were very few children there who looked bewildered, most of them already knew all about Hogwarts, either they were all clones of Hermione or they were purebloods and half-bloods. Was Valmortis striking already at the muggleborns who hadn't even reached schooling age yet? Was the world being quietly purged of muggleborns under their very noses?

He shuddered with the very idea of it and when he looked up again at Hermione's urging he locked gazes with the new Defence teacher, her eyes were a cold iron grey and her skin was unnaturally smooth and pale. Not supernaturally so, just as if she spent far too much time indoors and an excessive amount of effort on beauty charms. The effect was quite striking and if Harry was a lesser man he might have felt himself being rather attracted to the beatific woman, as it was he took the chance to nod carefully in her direction. He was a bit surprised when she nodded back and turned back to the sorting which was, coincidentally, just finishing.

The feast was a curious affair, the food was no different from usual, but the staff members were subdued, almost defensive, and the students were talking in hushed whispers making a muted hum across the hall that was much different from the usual roar of voices. Harry and Hermione were silent, eating quietly and talking between themselves in their link. They tried to keep the conversation light, but it was difficult when the imposing new teacher was scanning the hall with a startlingly sharp gaze and so many Muggle born witches and wizards were missing from the roster.

At long last once the last tart had been magically cleared from the tables and the last goblet had been drained Dumbledore stood from his seat and with a wave, conjured his usual podium from which he began to speak.

"Welcome new students, and to those who are returning; Welcome back! I have as is usual the start of term notices to announce…"

Harry was amused that Filch's list had apparently grown too large for the man's office door and was apparently now a book that could be accessed upon request. The forbidden forest remained forbidden and other, regular, start of term notices were dispensed then came the time of staff appointments, the time that the whole school had been tacitly waiting for.

"Joining us this year on appointment from the ministry of Magic is our new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher; Professor Victoria Umbridge, please welcome her warmly."

The requisite applause was remarkably polite, bordering on chilly, but apparently it sufficed. The biggest shock however was yet to come.

"I ask her to come forwards now as she requested to speak on the recent disappearances and attacks."

The ministry had so far avoided giving an official statement of any real substance; this would apparently be their public response to the disturbances that had been sweeping wizarding Britain. Harry kept his eyes locked on the new professor as she stood from her seat and walked around the edge of the table with a steady gait that oozed confidence.

She was not particularly tall, perhaps an inch shorter than Harry, but she had a presence that was far taller than her feet and inches. The sharp sound of her knee-high Hessian boots echoed around the deathly silent hall like the tolling of the most ominous bell Harry had ever heard. Beneath her overcoat she wore black linen trousers that were tucked into her boots and to Harry's great surprise a metal breastplate painted black over what looked like a white undershirt. Her hair was a striking dark brown that hung straight down her back, a single lock of white hair beginning at her left temple was a curious addition; Harry had no idea if she dyed it or it was natural.

The whole ensemble was intimidating and Harry noted with amusement that if she were a couple of decades older she might have been Mad Eye's sister. The woman stopped walking abruptly and the eyes of everyone in the Great were locked squarely on her, when she opened her voice to speak though, it was with an incongruously light and airy voice that clashed horribly with her otherwise formidable appearance.

"Good evening. On behalf of the Ministry of Magic in particular the Auror department, I have been authorized to speak to the recent events surrounding the public attacks of multiple wizarding locations across Britain and the disappearances of seventy two muggleborns."

Next to him Harry heard Hermione choke at that statement and he spared her an agonized glance, it was worse than they had thought.

"The culprits of these attacks, and they are believed to be linked, have been so far unsuccessful but the Head Auror Rufus Scrimgour believes he has enough leads to bring the investigation to a swift conclusion and provide closure for those families affected by the brutal attacks. I am here on behalf of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of the Ministry of Magic for Great Britain to ensure that this school and its students remain safe until the crisis is past."

She stopped talking as abruptly as she started, turned and nodded once to Dumbledore before resuming her measured gait to walk back to her seat. Upon reaching it she sat down gracefully and let her head drop slightly, the brim of her hat obscuring her face. Harry noted that Hermione was watching Dumbledore and his face had betrayed an emotion Harry couldn't fathom at the end of Professor Umbridge's speech. Meanwhile the woman had sat back in her chair and crossed her ankles under the table in front of her, the picture of repose but beneath the brim of her hat her iron grey eyes were once again scanning the hall.

-:-

Dumbledore wrapped up the notices and sent everyone off to their beds. Harry and Hermione snapped to attention at this remembering their prefect duties. At least, Hermione snapped to attention, Harry rose from the table with all the grace of a coiled predator. Hermione couldn't help but admire the way he had filled out over the last year, gone was the scrawny boy from under the stairs, and in his place was a toned and wiry young man with strength, power and grace hiding behind his fashion disaster glasses and dark hair.

He had grown up, they both had. He had been through more pain than she could wrap her head around, even with constant access to his mind and memories. Most of those memories were locked behind mental barriers Harry had erected himself, iron walls of indomitable will that he refused to let fall even under her most crafty attempts to see his memories. No matter what she tried he refused to let her relive the horrors he had experienced. It wasn't like he was keeping secrets, he had told her everything or let her view the memories once. But he wouldn't allow it again, it was sweet in a way, and utterly annoying in another.

At the end of the day though it was a testament to his incredible strength of mind, it was no wonder that Alastor couldn't control him with the Imperius. The last lesson that Alastor had taught them before they left for Hogwarts had been ward detection, it was a fascinating subject but much to Hermione's annoyance she didn't have the necessary magical affinity for the mage sight variant required to see the ward threads. She was forced to watch through Harry's eyes as Alastor taught him how to manipulate and detect the incredibly thin ward strands and their weave.

It was enthralling to see both the concentration on Harry's face and, through his own eyes, the care with which he manipulated the strands of the concealment ward around Hermione's chair where she sat being the guinea pig for his lessons. Daily she was blown away by his control, his determination and drive. He had learnt to apparate in a single day of hard practice, he had mastered the basic form of the mage sight charm almost instantly, and shortly after mastered its use. Whilst doing all of this he was able to keep a tight rein on his thoughts and maintain awareness of her location and what she was doing at any given time.

Whenever that mind boggling will and determination was focused on her she felt like she could do anything, the world was her oyster and the sky was the limit with his support and power lifting her up and opening the world to her scrutiny. It was a heady feeling to be his now that he was truly settling into himself as a person, she was just happy that she was the one who he had bent heart towards loving for the rest of his life.

As she shepherded the first years towards Gryffindor tower and Harry made sure as many Gryffindor students as possible knew the password she had to smile grimly. He would prevail, against every odd that was thrown at them, he would prevail. And she would be damned if she wasn't right there alongside him, she wasn't exactly a pushover herself.

-:-

AN2: Welp, this is a chapter I've been looking forward to, regardless of how long it took to write. Things are really picking up now and there are a few things I want to address so that no questions are asked, or if they are, they'll be smart questions, not dumb idiot ones:

Firstly I loathe the Delores Umbridge of Canon; she's a useless character with no redeeming features thrown into the story to be an easily hateable sideshow with no other purpose. I feel quite comfortable in rebranding the 'Inquisitor of Hogwarts' in an image of my own choosing and fiddling with her character till it suits my own ends. You'll find (I hope) that my version of Professor Umbridge is far more three dimensional, also I just like Victoria as a name, sue me.

Secondly: The plot of the first five books is actually not that bad, things fall of the rails horrifically in books six and seven but we don't talk about those, so many of the events you see will be familiar, but not the same, and I promise to end the story in a totally different way and use fully original plot content for the last two instalments of my series.

Thirdly: Reasons for why this chapter is so appallingly late. #1 is the cold I've been stricken with, every creative thought I have goes out the window when I'm sick and it's the biggest contributor to the lateness of this chapter. The other one is the absurdly fun DLC for Dark souls 2 which came out a couple of days ago and has since occupied a great deal of my time. Thirdly is the difficulty that I found in writing this chapter, somehow I struggled to work towards my usual ten K words that I strive for and I had to embellish a couple of plot points I wasn't planning on to make up content, see if you can spot the stuff that wasn't planned.

AN3: Review Responses:

Lupinesence: Thank you!

Starboy: Thank you too!

PairingMatters: Lots, lots more.

Anotherboarduser: Indeed they are, and yeah this is a big deal for them, Harry is on tenterhooks between wanting to lose himself totally in her and keep a bit of his own persona, while Hermione is quite adamant that she wants to remain herself, but the lure of blending with Harry is too strong to resist all the time, especially when they're intimate ^.^

Shade66: *Facepalm* Sighhhhhhh fixed

Jamcreynolds: Sorry about the late update, but thanks for the review!

RogueBHS: *blinks* I wanted to reply to some of your points but you're essentially just praising me… so thanks! Hope this meets expectations.

Kisa Tracer: Ugh, spelling mistakes are the least of my troubles, but thanks for pointing them out anyway. Hope you like this new chapter!

Lairenna: Let me reassure you, they won't be having full blown (hue hue hue) intercourse until they're both sixteen (Which is the age of consent in Britain, even if it's not wizarding Britain.) So rest easy.

I've had a couple of people now comment that it's nice(?) to see a woman - man rape instead of the other way around, I have to admit I never really thought about that when I wrote the passage, it was more about Harry's betrayal at the hands of yet another supposed friend than anything else, but I guess it's sort of a convenient side benefit(?). It's so weird to be talking about rape in positive terms *shudder* moving on, thanks for your review.

Shadow Dragon: PTSD is something I considered for Harry, but you have to consider that he's been through, arguably, much worse. He's even died (officially he died in the chamber of secrets of a moment before Fawk's tears restarted his heart). At this stage I think that he's far too strong a person to suffer to something like that, and Hermione is far too concerned to let him get depressed, but he is definitely suffering the effects of some trauma due to the rape. Thanks for your thoughts anyway! And thanks for your review.

Alright folks that's it for another week, tune in next time for Chapter Four: Inquisition, whereupon Victoria Umbridge shows her true colours and Harry learns a few new tricks. Thanks again for Reading and other shenanigans, see you next time!

LGreymark


	4. Inquisition

AN: Yanno, if I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing my own crap ass novel, so obv I don't.

-:-

Chapter Four: Inquisition

The first day back was one that Harry would remember for the rest of his life. It was, for want of a better word, the beginning of the war. It started with Defence against the Dark arts.

-:-

The door to the Defence against the dark arts classroom burst open and six students filed in. Harry and Hermione first, followed by Neville Seamus Lavender and Parvarti bringing up the rear. They took seat similar to the ones they used to. Harry reflected on the way the classroom had changed since last year. Moody favoured a ring of seats around a central lecturing and duelling ring. The classroom had otherwise Spartan furnishings and it was deliberately utilitarian.

Professor Umbridge however had arranged the chairs in an amphitheatre type arrangement, the magic of the castle aiding her in this task apparently as the seating was tiered with a stage at the bottom for lecturing. A wide blackboard covered the far wall and a covered cube stood in the centre of the stage, the outline of vertical bars could be seen through the fabric so perhaps a cage? To the left and slightly forwards of that was an ornate wooden desk with a black and silver quill with a metallic nib balancing on its point in the upper left of the workspace.

Sitting at that desk, her boots crossed at the ankle and resting on a stool placed off to the right and her overcoat draped over a nearby rail was the Professor herself. The class couldn't see her face as her wide brimmed hat was covering it completely. The moment Parvarti, who was last in the room, sat down, the heavy wooden door closed with an audible clunk. Professor Umbridge swung around in her chair to face her writing desk, her light young voice rung out with a touch of boredom, questioning the six names who were on the class roster.

Once all named themselves present the forbidding professor stood and took off her hat, tossing it to the desk. She was definitely a striking beauty; her skin was of a porcelain quality that was maybe a shade off perfect. He hadn't noticed before but her lips were a deep rich red colour, Hermione bitterly informed him that it didn't look like lipstick and was probably her natural shade. Harry gently reassured her in the bond that she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her blush next to him made him grin.

"Good morning fifth years, as I understand you've had mixed instruction in this class, Professor Moody gave you an extremely thorough education on sorcery and duelling with it and Professor Lupin, his predecessor gave you an introduction to dark creatures. But from there everything gets a little hazy, I won't speak to the efficacy of Quirinus Quirrill, but Gilderoy Lockhart has been proven a fraud by the Ministry. I'll be continuing the work of Professor Lupin, doing my best to give you a thorough instruction and education about the traits and details of dark creatures. From the notes left here you've covered Hinky Punks, Grindylows, Kappas, Red Caps and Lycanthropes? That is an excellent beginning education on natural dark creatures. I seek to improve and expand your knowledge of Curse Creatures, specifically the undead."

She hadn't had to ask for it but the class was in complete silence. The woman had a slight lilting accent and Harry suspected an Irish heritage, it didn't really matter to him though; this was the one class he refused to be mediocre in, he had to be the best. If they were studying the undead, so be it.

"Can anyone give me a list of common undead? Such as they are?"

Harry raised his hand; the rest of the class had long stopped bothering to beat him in this field. She raised a single sculpted eyebrow at the class before nodding to Harry.

"Mr Potter?"

"Vampires and Inferi Professor, though I guess animated bones or human corpses with sorcery could be called undead as well."

A hard look settled on him for a moment before flicking away

"An acceptable answer, most fifth years would not know so much as that. Necromancy, the magic of animation and communion with the dead and undead is banned by the Ministry for good reason, but that does not stop people practising it. Unfortunately when something is banned information about the subject becomes hard to come across and general information for those simply academically curious or in the practise of defending themselves and others becomes rare. This is the full list of what are known as common undead."

For the first time the class gets a glimpse of the woman's wand, harry almost chuckled, it was typically utilitarian, a simple oak wand, although particularly long, maybe twelve inches with a slight bulge a quarter of the way up the wand to signify the end of the grip. Harry spotted a glimpse of wire wrapping around the hilt for extra friction. The wand was flicked commandingly and a list materialized on the blackboard in tight cursive script that was nevertheless easy to read, possibly magically so.

_Common Undead:_

_Vampires  
Inferi  
Ghosts  
Ghouls  
Mummies  
Skeletons  
Poltergeists  
Wraiths  
Phantoms  
Draugr_

Harry quickly perused the list and nearly slapped himself at his own stupidity, of course ghosts and poltergeists were undead.

"These are known as Common Undead because they are created either on their own or without need for sacrifice. For example, Skeletons as they are commonly known are, as Mr Potter said, simply sorcerously manipulated bones of the deceased, they don't even specifically have to be the bones of the same person, or even a complete skeleton. Often the ribs are left out as they are seen as 'unnecessary' to the purpose of the undead, another example is ghosts, they technically turn themselves into undead by forcing their own spirits to remain on the mortal plane. We'll cover these first, but later we'll move on to greater undead."

Another flick of the wand and a much shorter list appeared.

_Greater Undead:_

_Nosferatu  
Revenants  
Wights  
Litches_

"These four are the crème de la crème of the undead. They are few, rarely seen and totally deadly, we'll cover these last if only because you're unlikely to meet them."

Harry raised his hand almost without thinking. The raised sculpted eyebrow returned and she nodded to him.

"Mr Potter, a question?"

Harry nodded back, suddenly nervous

"Yes, I just was wondering at your statement, you said we're unlikely to meet the greater undead, which makes sense, but does that mean we are likely to meet any lesser undead in the near future?"

She scrutinized him then with that cold iron gaze and Harry returned it with equal force. It was curious, in the past when Snape looked at him that hard he and Hermione had to fend off a legilimency probe. They hadn't known what it was at the time but Mad Eye had explained it over the summer. But now, looking dead on at this new professor there was no probe, no spike of headache like pain. This was simply a penetrating searching stare that seemed to be judging him of his entire worth. Eventually she spoke.

"You might, the ministry suspects that Inferi are being used in the attacks."

Harry took a moment to share a mental nod with Hermione, they had suspected creatures were being used in the attacks themselves, and here was more support for their theory.

"Right then, if there are no more questions, let's get started shall we? We have enough time to cover the differences between ghosts and Poltergeists. No textbooks, just note parchment and quills please."

There was a quick scrabbling for quills and ink before the woman starting speaking again, which she did almost immediately.

"Recognising Ghosts and Poltergeists is rather quite simple, they are both semi-transparent and ice cold to the touch, yet intangible. The differences then come in their abilities, and their characteristics such as appearance and personality.

Ghosts are an imprint of their former selves, thus their personalities are similar to those they had in life, and their appearances are those of their last moments before death. Most then are extremely gory covered in blood and such. As for as temperament is concerned most are rather depressed as one could expect from those locked on this plane of existence for all time. On the other hand, some of the oldest ghosts are actually quite cheerful and cooperative, there's a ghost in Egypt of a man from ancient times who teaches Japanese to the post graduates of the academy there. Either way Ghosts are formed when a person dies who either isn't ready to die or has unresolved issues on this plane of existence, somewhat depressing actually. Regardless poltergeists are similar and different; similar in that they retain similar personalities to that which they had when alive, and that they tend to be both intangible. But poltergeists can choose to be tangible for brief periods of time, time that they usually use to wreak havoc. A good example of this is the school poltergeist, he is boisterous, mischievous and ultimately a nuisance. The last major difference between ghosts and poltergeists is the one between their creations, we've spoken of how ghosts are made, and poltergeists are created by a witch or wizard who wants to hold someone else spirit here without meaning to because they miss a friend or a loved one. The poltergeist tends to proceed to make life hell for the person who has denied them eternal rest because they come back to our plane without memories, hence your poltergeist being names 'Peeves' as opposed to anything resembling an ordinary name."

Hermione was a machine, he knew this already but it was something else to see her actually keeping up with this woman's words. Everything was written down, word for word, verbatim. It was a little scary actually; Harry could only manage a summary.

"Fortunately for us the magical compositions of both undead are very similar. Which of you here take Arithmancy?"

Harry and Hermione both absently raised their hands, no one else did.

"Unfortunate, either way the arithmantic equation for their per-second magical energy expenditure is on the board. Note that the energy values are much higher than one would normally expect from a conjuration spell of similar efficacy, where does the energy come from? No one is sure, but it's been theorized that ghosts and poltergeists, and by extension wraiths and phantoms, draw the power from wherever their spirits were being sent, on if you will, again, only a theory. Moving on, in fact we have a moment, questions?"

Seamus raised his hand and the intimidating woman gave her per functionary nod

"Mr Finnegan is it? Go ahead."

"Mam, why do we need to know about ghosts and poltergeists, they aren't dark are they? I'm pretty sure they're not a threat either"

"Five points to Gryffindor Mr Finnegan, you are quite right, they are neither dark nor a threat, they are however undead and understanding the basic theory behind banishing them will make things easier for you six when we get to banishing greater undead later."

Hermione's hand shot up in perfect time.

"Miss Granger?"

"So we're actually going to be taught how to banish the undead, especially Greater undead? I thought that was a seventh year topic?"

The Umbridge nodded calmly

"Quite right, that is a seventh year topic, and you'll learn it in seventh year."

The class was silent, Hermione's hand shot up again and the professor nodded to her once more.

"Is this year going to be entirely theoretical then?"

The professor smiled for the first time, it was a strange smile in that it reached her eyes, and yet the emotion shown there wasn't mirth, but something darker.

"Not quite Miss Granger. Banishing the undead, while a seventh year topic is not the only method of self-defence from them, though it is somewhat more final. Sorcery and Spells are just as effective at breaking them apart temporarily, and in the case of lesser undead, fatally. I will be teaching you techniques and spells used to disable and destroy lesser and greater undead, without having to banish them."

For the first time in months Hermione's mind was totally blank, Harry turned and looked at her in concern and saw a look of pure surprise on her face.

"But, that's impossible."

"Five points from Gryffindor Miss Granger, I'll tolerate discussion but not impertinence, I am your teacher, and as such when I intimate that something is not only possible, but quite real, you will accept it as fact."

Harry bristled and nearly spoke out, his naturally protective nature flaring up but Hermione's hand clamped down on his thigh under the table and she silently reminded him of Professor McGonagall's cryptic warning. Hermione, incredibly, wasn't stinging from the professor's rebuke but rather was thoughtful inside the bond. He let her thoughts mentally ramble and paid attention for the both of them.

"Miss Granger's confusion, while poorly worded, is not unreasonable. The Ministry has long been of the belief that spells and sorceries of an offensive nature do little to actually damage the undead, it has been this way for over a thousand years and only recently has information come to light that gives us an insight into their possible destruction."

The Professor glanced at her magical hourglass for a second before continuing.

"I had not meant to cover this for some weeks but your curiosity may get you in trouble if not curbed immediately. We have just enough time to cover the basic theory before your next class. So, for the next short while I request silence. I will answer your other questions tomorrow in class or in my office hours after classes on Wednesdays and Fridays."

Umbridge reached to her desk and picked up a glass of some liquid. It was clear but bubbled faintly and harry doubted it was water. After taking a quick sip she summoned her chair to her, caught the backrest deftly and seated herself in the middle of the stage, her ankles again crossed in front of her in what Harry assumed was a habitual pose. For the first time he guessed at her age, her skin was flawless and not a wrinkle was there to be seen. Yet it was almost too perfect, as if charmed, what was hiding behind those glamours? She had the air of someone with a wealth of esoteric knowledge from a life of arcane pursuits, similar to the vibe Dumbledore gave off when speaking about anything intellectual.

Harry had no idea how old she was, she might have been in her early thirties, or late third century, he guessed she was terrifically powerful, few witches and Wizards held that kind of confidence without being utterly able to back up their bravado. Lockhart of course was the obvious exception. He was broken from his rambling thoughts as she continued her lecture.

"Before we delve into this subject we must first learn to define a true undead; therefore a true undead is the soul of a deceased sentient mortal that has been called back from the hereafter, or prevented from reaching said place by the machinations of the Necromantic arts. That soul may then be encased in a physical shell or left to roam as a spiritual body. Not all undead therefore are true undead."

Carelessly waving at the board the professor causes two more lists to appear.

_True Undead:_

_Vampires  
Ghouls  
Mummies  
Wraiths  
Phantoms  
Draugr  
Nosferatu  
Revenants  
Wights  
Litches_

_False or Imitation Undead_

_Ghosts  
Poltergeists  
Skeletons  
Inferi_

"The list of True Undead is notably larger than the other, however note that Skeletons and Inferi, the most common servants of Dark lords seeking to wield the undead, are not True Undead, and thus, even with conventional and traditional wisdom, can be destroyed with common spell-work and sorcery. Also note that all four of the classified 'Greater Undead' are also True Undead, making them both very dangerous, and almost indestructible. This phenomenon exacerbates the problem they pose when summoned by fledgling necromancers seeking to get an 'easy in' to the dark community. Conversely many elder necromancers in history never bothered summoning Greater Undead as they are nigh uncontrollable and are more of a hassle than anything else."

Another sip of the strange tonic

"With this firmly in mind we now easily distinguish why it would be considered impossible to destroy True undead with conventional magic, while their physical shells can be destroyed their souls are impervious to the common blasting hex or sorcel, hence the need to banish them. Remember when I mentioned before that Ghosts and Poltergeists draw a colossal amount of power from an unspecified source? Normally, in True Undead, this source of power is drawn from their own soul, which is of course eternal and a constant font of power, or alternately, it is drawn from the life energy of their slain victims, in the cases of Wights Vampires and Ghouls, this is the case, Vampires tend to take this over the top and read 'Life energy' as 'Life Blood' but the draining of blood is not essential to their survival, just beneficial."

Another sip

"This then is the conventional method, spells were developed to separate a soul from the magic tethering it to this plane of existence, and thusly the soul returns to its rightful place. The killing curse was an early attempt at this magic, but it was abandoned and outlawed because of its effects upon living beings, more refined methods have been developed since. Now however we have developed more easily cast self-defence charms and hexes that sap energy from the necromantic rituals and spells connecting the soul of the undead to this plane, weakening them until they are no longer strong enough to fuel the energy transfer that the soul of the undead requires. They are not fool proof and are very much dependent on the strength of the ritual binding the undead, while they can be classified fairly easily into named types such as Litches or ghouls, sometimes the rituals used to create them are of wildly varying strengths, and if strong enough can be unaffected by the new self-defence charms."

Another sip and a quick glance at the hourglass;

"Okay, that's all we have time for today, we'll continue the actual learning of these charms another time. Homework for tonight, read the chapter on Ghosts and Poltergeists in your textbooks and, if you have time, read ahead to the chapter on Wraiths and Phantoms. Mr Potter, Miss Granger could you two stay behind? We need to talk about how far you are with your Arithmancy."

Harry shot Hermione a glance and received a terse look of curiosity in reply. Warily they made their way to the front of the class where Professor Umbridge had returned to her desk and was pouring over a sheet of parchment. They waited patiently and after a moment she looked up at them, fixing them both with her steely gaze in turn.

"Let's drop pretence shall we? I was informed of your soul bond and the events surrounding Tom Riddle's return to life this last summer by Albus. He has asked me to check the both of you for tampering in case your bond was caused by Valmortis when you two encountered him at the Quidditch world cup."

Harry felt like he had been punched in the gut, even the idea that the bond he shared with Hermione was a farce was enough to make him stagger slightly and sit down on the step behind him, punch drunk. He started to Push Hermione away in his panic but, to his later relief, she refused to move an inch in their bond and smothered him with her love, reminding him of exactly how she felt and that this was probably more a precaution than anything else. She answered the question on both of their minds.

"But, we love each other, and felt that way before we even met him, how could he possibly have done anything?"

Professor Umbridge locked eyes on Hermione, but this time the gaze was more sympathetic than anything else.

"As I'm sure you've probably figured out Albus is far too thick in your affairs for your own good, but as a ministry sanctioned expert on soul magic I have to follow up on any queries made of me, similar to how your parents were required by law to inform the mundane police of Mr Potter's mistreatment at the hands of his relatives."

That threw them for another loop, here was a woman they had never met talking casually about things they had never told anyone else, not even Dumbledore or Moody. Wearily Hermione asked the question on both of their minds.

"How on Earth do you know about that?"

That weird smile returned.

"Because I'm an unspeakable who happens to specialize in the field of identifying, codifying and examining all kinds of soul magic Miss Granger. I make it my business to know everything there is to know about soul bonded couples. I'm not a gossip if that's what you're worried about."

Harry asked for both of them this time.

"Excuse me, us, but what's an unspeakable?"

That steely gaze shifted to him and once again Harry got the distinct impression he was being sized up.

"An Unspeakable is a person who works in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic Mr Potter. Think of me as a theoretical researcher who happens to have military training."

He sat in silence for a few moments with Hermione's hand resting on his shoulder, her thumb rubbing at the base of his neck soothingly. They were holding court between them in their minds and he got the distinct impression that Victoria Umbridge knew exactly what they were doing. Eventually he spoke again, this time being their mouthpiece.

"What exactly would be involved in you testing our bond? And what happens if something was done to tamper with us?"

Umbridge sat back in her chair, a slight thudding sound heralded the re-crossing of her ankles under the desk.

"It is a simple charm, I will cast it on the pair of you, a white glow is a pure, unaffected bond, a red glow indicates tampering, and a purple glow indicates an imitated but false bond. The last I doubt we will see strongly as you both exhibit typical symptoms of a soul bond. Not the least of which your rather rude mind speak in front of someone who knows exactly what you're doing."

They both blushed in embarrassment at being caught

"I fully expect to see the white, positive result from you, as for what happens if you've been tampered with? Curiously absolutely nothing, you've got your bond now, regardless of how it came about, and until we know more we can't act. Breaking it would be foolish in any instance as you would both probably suffer irreparable harm."

Harry turned and shrugged to his paramour

"I don't see why we shouldn't do this, we need to know regardless right?"

Hermione nodded at him, conscious of the fact that he had made an effort to speak aloud.

"Well in that case stand up, next to each other, and wait a moment."

They did so and the Professor cast a three syllable charm that they both missed and, after a second, a bright white glow erupted between them. Sighing with relief they both sat down, even Victoria looked slightly relieved.

"I hate it when people screw around with soul bonds they're so finicky and there can be weird consequences down the road, not to mention a mound of paperwork, this is better for everyone involved trust me. Now that we have that unpleasantness out of the way may I ask how your bond is progressing? I might be able to give you some insights as to what you can expect in the future."

Harry and Hermione stepped away from her a moment and shared a brief whispered conversation, which was strange, they hadn't had to whisper for months. Eventually they agreed there was no harm in telling her. She probably knew most of what they were going to tell her anyway. So they did, they did their best to summarize but they explained everything they had learned about the bond so far.

"You're remarkably in control even at this stage, if often takes years for couples to reach your level of connection. That said you've had a great deal of pressure and I suspect you're both an exceptional pair of magicians too. On the topic of Harry's assault by Fleur Delacour, as you both suspected it shouldn't negatively affect your bond, if anything the trauma should strengthen it, silver lining right?"

The longer the woman talked the less intimidated Harry was by her. She spoke with authority, but a gentle kind of sympathy to their situation that engendered trust. Her manner reminded Harry of what he always expected a muggle therapist to be like.

"Can I ask you a question professor?"

Umbridge snapped her gaze back to him and all of a sudden her remembered why this woman was formidable, he could feel the power thrumming beneath her thin veneer of calm.

"Certainly you may Mr Potter."

"Why are you wearing armour?"

The question seemed to take her off guard and she blinked in surprise, at least she was human then and could experience such things. After a second she collected herself and replied.

"It is mostly habit, the metal is enchanted to turn aside physical attacks and it is extremely light. There are a variety of wards on the piece designed to protect me from Harmful spells and gasses too. It's standard issue for Unspeakables and I rarely take it off save when asleep or bathing."

Harry nodded, satisfied with her answer, in truth he desired one of those pieces of armour for himself, it didn't look overly comfortable but he imagined you would get used to it and the protective nature of the armour would far outweigh any discomfort worn by wearing it.

"You two need to get to class, Alastor Moody has contacted me and requested that I continue your training. I'm afraid I don't have free time for it in the near future but from what I understand I'd be little challenge for you in the duelling ring, it's not exactly my strong suit. I can suggest some reading material however."

-:-

As the two teens left Victoria Umbridge's class she leaned forwards in her chair resting her chin on one hand that was braced on the desk and the fingers of her other tapping a staccato rhythm on the desk in front of her. The two teens were free of interference, but there were hundreds of teenagers here, and if any of them were being remotely controlled then it would be a mission all on its own to discover them, she needed help, or at least some kind of filtering system to make her task easier. Grunting slightly to herself she pulls out a sheet of parchment and with her elegant quill pens a short missive in red ink. Signing it she snaps her fingers and the letter abruptly vanishes.

Sitting back she takes a shallow basin from one of her desk drawers and dips her hand into it, coating the fresh cuts with a thin clear fluid. Before waving her wand twice more and putting the basin away. She needed backup.

-:-

The first lesson of term had been eventful for the two teens in more ways than they could ever imagine. Many things had been revealed to them and questions were boiling over in their minds like an overfull cauldron. Hermione agreed with her man that the woman was totally ageless and should be treated with caution; she too had gotten the distinct impression of being judged when viewed by those flat grey eyes.

They made it to Transfiguration with a minute to spare and sat down in the seats saved for them by their peers; right at the front in the middle. The Hufflepuffs who they shared this class with looked up to them just as much as their housemates did. Susan bones and Hannah Abbot had both formed loose acquaintances with them at the end of last year and Ernie was a constant source of amusement for the entire class with his pompous attitude and upper class vocabulary. Justin Finch Fletchley and Megan Grant had been Muggleborns in Hufflepuff, both were now missing.

Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had banded together in many ways and it was not uncommon to see mixed house friendships between them forming in the year previous. Many of those friendships had survived into the new school year and were flourishing. Professor McGonagall favoured her two favourite students with a smile as they sat down.

"This year is your OWL year, for many of you; this will mean little more than a little extra studying in the evenings and a stressful end of year. Some of you however, especially those of you looking to go into ministry jobs in your futures, will need to pay very special attention to this year as, without the required grades, you will not be allowed entrance into NEWT study and your careers will go up in flames before your eyes.

Careers counselling will be offered in October and once again in April when you have a better idea of how your studies are going. Notices will be posted closer to the time and I will expect all of you to go to your appointed times. Professor Sprout has asked me to impress upon her students in this class that she is happy to help any of you who are struggling or simply need advice and I offer the same support to my own students. We are here to ready you for your futures, do not squander us as a resource for your own advancement.

Now, we ended the school year with a project that all of you I am pleased to say, did excellently in achieving. Especially Mr Potter who, it seems, has taken the time to make a hobby out of the endeavour."

Harry blushed at the veiled rebuke as he hastily cleared one of his small creations from the table. It had apparently managed to find its way into his back this morning and subsequently hitched a ride onto his desk when he lifted out his transfiguration text book.

"Ensure that your creations do not cause any mischief Mr Potter, that said I would be most interested in reviewing your accomplishments."

Blush deepening he nodded slightly, eager to get the attention of the class off him so they would stop snickering.

"This year however we move away from transmutation and into a new branch of Transfiguration that we have not yet touched upon, conjuration. So far all of our classes have been focused on improving your control, teaching you to focus first on the current state of the object you are transfiguring and then the secondary state you wish it to become. Gradually new elements have been introduced until we concluded your study of transmutation with the project at the end of last year. Now we move on to summoning things directly from magic itself.

Now admittedly many of you have already started upon this course with Hexwork in Professor Moody's class last year. I ask you to set aside the knowledge you learned there for a moment and focus now upon what I am teaching you, for Conjuration and Hexwork are totally different fields of study and to mix them can be disastrous. Take out your wands please."

The class, almost as one, drew their wands smartly and sat, ready to cast with eager expressions. Harry nearly laughed at the look of amusement of the Professor's face.

"Every part of your p0ractical education until now has involved one of these. You have used them to charm, transfigure, curse, and even cast sorcery. For the first time today you are going to consciously attempt magic without a wand. Please place them back in your backs and push them under your chairs where you cannot get at them."

Harry looked at Hermione with a smirk on his face, first time wandless indeed. They did as they were asked though and placed their bags under their desks, wands included.

"Ensure your desks are clear before we start, done? Good. We are going to begin with a simple conjuration for fire. You have learned to use charms to ignite the air in front of your wand and propel it in a magical stream of flames in the incendio spell, and some of you have the natural affinity required to summon bluebell flames with your wands. What I want you to do is cup your hand in front of you, as if receiving a heavy ball of iron or pewter then imagine the heat of those flames, and picture it just above the palm of your hand while you keep it in front of you, then repeat the incantation 'Ignis Exorior'."

Harry shot Hermione a glance and then did as instructed; unsurprisingly a small flickering flame appeared cupped in his hand dancing merrily. Hermione let out an exclamation of happiness when a similar flame appeared in her hand. Professor McGonagall smiled at them and awarded five points apiece for a first try successful conjuration. The rest of the class battled with it and all bar Seamus had mastered the trick by the end of class. He had somehow managed to decimate his eyebrows, again.

"I'm sorry mam, fire and I just don't mix."

-:-

Lunch time was a rowdy affair, the Gryffindor fifth years and Ravenclaw and Slytherin third years had all experienced the new professor and were relaying their experiences to their housemates and anyone who would listen. Apparently Professor Umbridge had gone over much of what Harry and Hermione learned in third year with Professor Lupin but in her own unique style. It occurred to Harry that Defence against the Dark arts had a hugely varied syllabus and it was more down to what each individual teacher wanted to impart rather than any standardized set. He wondered how they would be tested on their knowledge of such a vast subject in their coming OWL.

Hermione shared his concerns and had theorized that they would be tested based on what they had been taught rather than an international frame of reference like the other subjects. They both remembered Fleur talking about her own OWL studies (In France they were apparently called Les Examens Magiques Initale) and how they were focused on counter curses for spells that the few dark wizards France still had found 'fashionable'. Hopefully they wouldn't be tested on Lockhart's collected works.

Harry felt a pressure on the back of his neck like someone was observing him from a distance. Glancing up he noted Draco Malfoy looking particularly pale and glaring at him from across the room. Harry sighed; he knew this confrontation would come, Lucius Malfoy had been one of the death eaters in the Graveyard that night, Lucius would have been punished for letting Harry escape, and Lucius would have punished Draco. Sirius had talked to both himself and Hermione about the way pureblood boys like Draco were raised and it wasn't a pretty picture, reminiscent of childhoods not dissimilar to Harry's. But that was the difference, Harry knew that he was better than Draco, he didn't commit rape or abuse those with no fault.

He had chosen to be this way, had Draco, he had seen his options, and taken the easier route. Harry had no sympathy for the boy who had nearly raped one of his friends. He remembered how broken Fleur had been after the fact and his fist clenched painfully around his fork. If Draco picked a fight, Harry would end it. He felt a slim hand clasp his own and looked down to see Hermione gently prying the mangled fork out of his hand. Grimacing he set it to rights with a surreptitious wandless reparo with a sigh he set down the remedied fork and looked sidelong at her.

"This isn't going to end well love."

Her soft hand came up to cup his cheek gently and she replied with a stern tone.

"You'll not hold back. If he tries to hurt you destroy him, I don't want you hurt because you were too noble to give that little toe rag what he deserves."

He nodded once, accepting her statement for what it was; a request made by a worried lover to her reckless and noble beau. Tenderly he took her hand in his own and kissed the knuckles.

"I love you Hermione."

The feelings of warmth and affection that cocooned him in the bond nearly made him weep with joy

"I love you too Harry."

-:-

In years to come when Harry would look back on his life it would be this year at Hogwarts that he realized what his career would be, specifically in charms; as the students filed in Professor Flitwick motioned Harry to the side and, in his squeaky voice, requested to borrow a handful of Harry's creations. After complying with a bemused look at the professor Harry went back to his seat and shrugged at Hermione. Whatever Flitwick was doing would probably be interesting, it always was.

"Quiet down class, quiet down. This year, amongst our OWL studies I have decided to experiment with you by teaching an auxiliary course. The project you all did at the end of the school year brought to mind an old passion of mine that I have neglected for many years. That is of course, magical artificial intelligence."

The class was dead silent; Harry and Hermione were both on the edge of their seats hanging off every word. Most of the Ravenclaws were too.

"Mr Potter designed and successfully made a mechanical spider, powered with magic that had rudimentary intelligence, as you can see he has furthered his art and expanded his repertoire. Tell us Mr Potter, how did you craft the intelligence for these delightful creatures?"

Harry cleared his throat, and tried hard not to look down at his desk in embarrassment; despite his growing confidence compliments about things he was actually good at still made him shy.

"It was quite a struggle at first, I tried to use intent based runes but they just refused to work properly, almost as if they were intentionally misunderstanding and doing something completely different. In the end I had to make a dozen or so rune clusters that were essentially layers of logic gates. Multichoice options based on pre-set parameters in the end I made them standard and simply added to them to experiment. One of the simpler ones is a rune that controls how they move about from surface to surface. If the surface they are walking on ends a spell detects the distance down to the next surface and another spell detects the angle of the edge, if it's ninety degrees or less the constructs can quite happily cling to them and wander about as if the surface was flat, but they struggle to reconnect to surfaces that are too great an angle away from them. If the angle is too great to traverse and the distance to the next surface downwards is greater than a meter and a half a different spell then searches for any surfaces within jumping distance, which is different for each one depending on their strength. If no surfaces within jumping distance exist they instead turn either left or right around until the surface extends in a direction they can travel and they carry on."

Harry had to stifle a laugh at the silence in the classroom and the adoring expression on Hermione's face. Flitwick actually did laugh

"Well Mr Potter you've done an excellent job for an untrained amateur I'll tell you that for certain. Thirty points to Gryffindor for a truly excellent explanation and understanding of your craft. Professionals use a slightly different method, but yours is equally valid, if somewhat more time consuming. You may find that they are interchangeable or more or less useful depending on your task. Where you use runes with powered spells, most professionals use miniature detection wards, with attached reaction spells, for example."

Flitwick places one of Harry's contraptions on the desk and duplicates it with a spell, the device is however inert.

"Note that my copy of Mr Potter's construction is stationary whilst his continues to scuttle about. Speaking of which Mr Potter can you make it stop a moment?"

Harry nodded once before intoning clearly.

"Mora"

Flitwick looked if possible even more delighted

"Voice activated command too? Oh well done Mr Potter well done. Now, look here. If I place a distance detection ward on this contraption it will detect the distances of all objects to the centre of its mass. All we do then is place a series of spells upon it with priority runes attached that dictate what behaviours we want to set. In this case I want it to prioritize walking on flat surfaces whenever possible, but it will jump to applicable surfaces if left with no other choice, and as a final bit of amusement, it will be compelled to chase the tip of my wand."

With the casting of the last charm the small critter immediately leapt at Flitwick's wand which he moved sharply taking it out of reach and then amused the class for a moment by making the creature run up and down desks and leap from book to book. Eventually he stunned and vanished the contraption.

"Would you mind if the class borrowed some of these Mr Potter? They'll need something to experiment on for Homework."

Harry shook his head

"No that's fine sir. I've got plenty more where those came from."

"In that case before we get into the meat of this lesson I want you all for homework to experiment with charming whichever of Mr Potter's delightful creations you get your hands on. In a month we will be testing your enchantments in a cross country race for them, expect them to need to be able to run, jump assess terrain and strive for a pre-set objective, likely a location. I'll need a few for the other class as well Mr Potter if you will. Your textbooks have the required charms, all of which we will learn in class in the next two days."

That would prove to be the beginning of a lifelong passion of Harry's, and a source of great frustration for Hermione, and great amusement for their children.

-:-

Unfortunately not all the day would be so amusing, the confrontation they had been waiting for happened just after dinner.

The two teens had been walking back to their quarters on the seventh floor when a cutting sorcel opened up Harry's back from behind. It landed a hand's width below his neck, Hermione felt him collapse against her and she screamed upon seeing the inch deep gash from shoulder to shoulder and Harry yelled in pain and rage.

She felt like she was in a dream as she threw up a shield and turned to face their attackers. Draco Crabbe and Goyle were already firing more sorcels, apparently surprised that the initial attack had failed to kill Harry instantly. Hermione retaliated, blasting sorcels snapping out like cannon balls blasting into their mediocre shields. She had the full combined power of herself and Harry's magical cores at her disposal and she was fuelling her sorcels with rage and fear. Crabbe and Goyle never stood a chance.

Crabbe was blasted backwards off his feet spinning rapidly, one of his arms missing and blood fountaining out in a spiral ribbon of crimson fluid. Goyle was less lucky and his legs from his knees to his waste simply disappeared, a follow up jab from Hermione punched a hole through his wand arm shoulder and sent him screaming to the ground. Draco had been learning some tricks from daddy over the summer though because when she turned to him her blasting sorcel was absorbed by his shield with a sonorous gong like note and then his own attack blasted back at her; a jet of light blue light that speared into her shield and crushed it like a paper cup.

Hermione cried in shock as a second cutting sorcel severed her wand hand at the wrist and she looked down at it in shock as it rolled on the floor. She would have died right then and there if Crabbe hadn't been screaming so loudly.

-:-

When the screams started Professor Umbridge didn't hesitate, she simply ran. Her boots thundered on the marble steps as she sprinted up the stairs and dashed down the corridor. Those were not the screams of merriment or childlike play; those were the screams of someone in mortal agony. The sight she came to made her blood boil. Her wand was out in a second and Draco Malfoy was pinned against the wall metal staples locking his wrists and ankles in place. Another flick and Hermione's hand reattached itself sliding into place with a wet slapping sound. There was nothing to be done for Crabbe and Goyle, they were dead.

She fell to her knees next to Potter and began weaving a restoration charm. The cutter had split his spine and it was a miracle that he hadn't been paralysed from the shoulders down. He was still screaming, she knocked him cold with a stunner. There was no way to get them to the hospital wing on foot in enough time for Poppy to fix the damage her field spells had slowed on both teens. So she made a portkey, and moments later they were in the hospital wing.

Finally she stood, blood covering her knees and boots, her eyes no longer iron grey, now they were a deep blood red. She walked to Malfoy and stood in front of him staring into his eyes with her patented piercing glare. He wet himself.

"Have you got any idea how much trouble you're in?"

"My father…"

"Your father is a death eater, and no longer holds weight in the ministry. Don't interrupt me again."

Malfoy visibly swallowed and his wand clattered to the floor, dropped by fingers numb from lack of blood flow due to the metal staples surrounding his wrists and pinning them to the stonework.

"You have attacked, in the middle of a school, another student, nearly killed them in fact."

"Crabbe and Goyle are…"

"DON'T INTERRUPT ME!"

Her face, normally smooth and unblemished became a terrifying mask of nightmares in that instance. Her skin peeled back and her flash seemed to rot away revealing her tongue in her mouth and the cartilage of her nose before she regained control, the façade of her perfect face slipping back into place.

"You are nothing Draco Malfoy; you are a servant of a power aged beyond use. Your father's time is over; his master's time is over. A new age is dawning and the boy you nearly just killed is the answer to _everything_."

"I have not endured this Earth for all this time just to see one stupid arrogant little boy, who is chafing because of his own stupid thoughtless decisions, ruin everything I have worked for. I have too much riding on this to let something happen now. I should kill you, right now; make it look like Granger did it in her rage, you'd do it again wouldn't you? Do you want to end up like your friends, one with his legs a paste and the other with his arm in a million pieces?"

He threw up messily and she just avoided having it splatter her coat.

"I think I'll leave you here to hang in this cesspool, you can reflect on how thin the thread of your life is next to your friends. May they rest in peace."

She loosened the staples just enough so that he wouldn't lose his hands from lack of blood and walked away, she had to see Minerva before this got out of hand.

-:-

Harry woke to the familiar ceiling of the hospital wing he turned his head, wondering at the absence of Hermione in his mind and wondered if everything was a dream. Was he back in the hospital wing after his Quidditch accident in third year? Maybe it was after they had met Sirius, maybe after the time turner. But no, there she was, in the back of his mind talking, but he couldn't hear her very clearly, it was like someone had put up a screen between their minds. Groggily he turned his head all the way to the side and saw her there, sitting in her usual chair, looking at him with such an obvious look of worry that he couldn't help but get up and go to her, to comfort her. She catapulted herself into his arms and clutched at his shirt panting slightly.

"Don't you ever do that to me again."

Harry smiled and pulled her, if possible, even closer.

"Sorry love, truly I am. Are you going to tell me what happened? All I can remember is being hit in the back, then nothing."

"They had to obliviate you of the memories; you went into shock a couple of times just remembering the pain. Malfoy opened up your back with a cutting sorcel, nearly severed your spine. He's in Azkaban now."

Harry could tell there was more, you didn't spend a year in nearly constant communication with someone and not pick up their tells. And there was that maddening screen between their thoughts.

"What aren't you telling me? And why can't I hear your thoughts love? What's going on?"

She sniffed against his shoulder

"He hurt me, and they don't want you to see the memories of it yet, I'm not as good at hiding it as you, they want you to be more stable before they take it down. They think you'll kill him and it's bad enough that I killed Crabbe and Goyle without you getting prosecuted as well."

Harry's blood boiled, Malfoy hurt her?

"Harry, calm down, he cut off my hand with a cutting sorcel, but Professor Umbridge reattached it, I'm okay."

He breathed out, tension leaving him. Then the second part of what she said came home to him.

"Wait, you killed Crabbe and Goyle? Prosecuted? What's going on?"

He felt like a broken record.

"I'm a Muggle Born Harry. I killed two purebloods, even in self-defence under the law they can call for me to be arrested and tried for murder."

"No."

The word came from him instinctually, like a knee jerk solution to an obvious problem.

"But…"

"No, I'm not going to let them. You know exactly what will happen if you get arrested, they'll twist things, it won't be fair, and it's my fault…"

*SLAP*

The sound of her hand hitting his cheek was so sudden as to be shocking and he stood there, staring at her with something approaching bewilderment.

"What…?"

"No. Don't you dare. Don't you dare try to take ownership for what those scum tried to do. That was not your fault Harry, and don't try to take ownership for my actions either, I knew exactly what I was doing, and what the consequences could have been, I couldn't not fight back Harry. They would have killed us."

He sagged and sat heavily on the bed behind him

"What do we do?"

"You sit there, and let me take care of it."

He and Hermione both turned to see three people entering the ward, Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Umbridge; it was Umbridge that had spoken. Harry shot a look at Hermione who shrugged.

"You acted in self-defence in response to an attack on your bond mate. I can rustle up a few laws that obviate the entire need for a trial. Your use of sorcery is justified in life threatening circumstances especially as you weren't the instigator. The irony of all of this is that your being a muggleborn is totally irrelevant, you'll be joining an noble and ancient house as soon as you two hand fast, makes you immune to a lot of the modern laws when it comes to this kind of thing."

Harry looked at the professor like she had grown a third head.

"Ancient _and_ noble? Am I forgetting something or has no one told me about this yet?"

Hermione's hand on his cheek brought him around

"It's the painkillers, I told you about that last year, remember?"

Now he just felt stupid

"Oh, right, yeah, um… Okay?"

She rolled her eyes before turning back to the professors who all looked like they were stifling amusement.

"He gets tongue tied sometimes, ignore him. So the long and short of it is that we get out of this in one piece? And out of jail?"

Dumbledore nodded sagely.

"It's why Mr Malfoy is already in jail, Mr Potter is the scion of an ancient wizarding house, nobility aside he's already in violation of several succession laws and his attack on your person Miss Granger is curiously even worse, as you are, or will be, the mother of the next Generation of Potters all things going well."

Harry and Hermione both blushed at that insinuation. Harry could have sworn Dumbledore's eyes gave an extra strong twinkle just then.

"Relax, rest, you'll be able to go back to your rooms in an hour or so I believe."

He and Umbridge turned to leave but Professor McGonagall stayed behind

"I wish you two would stay out of trouble, you have no idea how much paperwork is involved in everything you get up to."

Harry let out a rueful chuckle

"I can't help it I'm sorry Professor; I don't suppose this is just a social meeting?"

It was the professor's turn to chuckle

"No I'm afraid not, although it is of benefit to you. I have a letter for the two of your from Alastor, additionally I want to offer my personal congratulations on your exemplary development as a pair of young magicians. Especially in the field of sorcery, that said I cannot gripe about your transfiguration scores. I approached the Wizarding Educational Authority about sorcery scholarships for both of you. Hogwarts doesn't offer an official Sorcery examination at OWL level and I believe, as does apparently the WEA, that you are both capable of scoring excellently on their internationally graded examination. I do wish you the best in your studies, we aren't really supposed to have favourites but…"

She left it there, trailing off suggestively before bidding them goodnight and leaving behind three letters. They both knew what she meant though and it meant the world to them. They decided to open Moody's letter in their own rooms but the scholarship invitations were too tempting and they both opened the envelopes with trembling fingers. Harry read his letter with trepidation and excitement.

_Dear Mr Potter_

_We at the Wizarding Education Authority have received a second hand request for you to be admitted into our scholarship examination program for international excellence._

_After reviewing your internal examination results and the scores given by your deputy headmistress relating to your MDL (Magical Development Level), we are happy to offer you a scholarship examination paper for sorcery at intermediate testing levels. _

_The scholarship winner will receive a four hundred galleon prize and a guaranteed position for the advanced test in two years' time. All participants will receive a certificate of achievement with accompanying details of their score and achievements in the testing. Those who pass the examination will be shortlisted for the advanced test in two years' time. _

_Please respond promptly by international owl at your earliest convenience with conformation for more information on your pending examination. _

_Have a good day_

_Larissa Mikealson  
International correspondent and organiser_

_WEA_

Harry closed the letter with shaking hands and looked up at Hermione who was equally gobsmacked. Harry had no illusions about money; he would be set for life upon reaching his majority. But having the certificate in hand and the knowledge that he had passed an international standard sorcery examination was mind blowing. He and Hermione spoke almost at the same time.

"I'm in."

-:-

Madame Pomfrey removed the mental screen that had separated their bond and Harry immediately felt like a weight had been lifted from his heart. Being separated from Hermione like that was an experience he never wanted to repeat. They spent the night in their rooms, holding one another close and reaffirming themselves to one another after the most stressful and dangerous first day of school either of them had ever experienced. It was a long time before either of them got any sleep.

Deeper in the castle a professor was doing mental exercises trying to understand why she had lost control of her glamours. It had been a long time since she had shown her face to the world. Another professor elsewhere was toasting her new favourite students and in a tall tower on the southern side of the castle an aging headmaster was nervously fingering a long wand of elder.

Meanwhile halfway across the country in a small town near Leeds a pair of Muggles was being torn limb from limb. Etched into their corpses were the two names of the teens curled up together on a bed in Scotland. Retribution for two pureblood lives taken in anger.

-:-

AN2: Holy balls that was quick. Maybe I feel a little guilty for the long ass time it took me to update the last chapter. Maybe I'm in a writing mood. Maybe you'll never know, enjoy!

AN3: I realised when I wrote the first instalment in this series that I really, really enjoy writing classroom scenes, so I wanted to devote almost an entire chapter to them to really have my head. I like to use my writing as a way of injecting my own thoughts of what magic should be like into the general population, and a teaching environment is a really convenient way to do that, because I get to teach my readers about all the weird ass ideas in my head. Sorry if it got irksome, I won't do it again, probably, maybe.

AN4: This chapter had a lot of new concepts, a lot of strange goings on, and even a bit of action. There are a few things I want to clear up because I never know if I did so adequately in the actual writing. Professor Umbridge isn't evil in canon, and she isn't here. They both have their own agendas and are going to go as far as needed to accomplish them.

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle are not the brightest sparks in the sky, that's why they thought they could get away with this… they were wrong.

Hermione and Harry are not a perfect couple, close to it because of bond shenanigans, but they still do things that bug each other. Like when Hermione slaps Harry in this chapter, she's just had enough of his bs for one day and she's letting him know, it's healthy, promise.

And finally, Dumbledore gets very little air time for a reason, I know full well that in most fics he's a huge part of the plot, but in reality he's a secondary character, and should be. This story is about Harry and Hermione, and partly about Alastor and Umbridge and Valmortis and Voldemort. But mostly about harry and Hermione, everyone else gets second, third fourth and fifth fiddle.

AN5: Review Responses

Anotherboarduser: Excellent, glad I'm doing something right.

Pairingmatters: Good sir, are you trying to fish for plot information? Tsk tsk

Shadowking: Ahhh friend, you haven't been paying attention. Ah well, more's the shock when you figure it out.

Lupinesence: Yanno, I completely forgot to do that. ;.; I meant to, but it just didn't seem to happen. I promise I'll do a recap during the Christmas chapter okay?

Imortalglee: … This is one of those reviews I can't really respond to because you're just saying: Good job Lucian, well done. So um… Thanks? Seriously, thanks.

Vegasman: Hmmm, Yanno I wish I could confirm or deny that, but I have no idea what's in the NAZI playbook, so I'ma just keep writing and hope I don't become anti-Semitic

Texan-Muggle: Honestly I had forgotten how relieving it is just to be able to post the chapters when I finish writing them. You were an excellent beta and I thank you for that but I think I'm going to wing it.

Right, that's another one guys, thanks for reading and other shenanigans. The next chapter; Arcane Knowledge will see us diving deeper into necromantic lore. See you all next time? Pls?

LGreymark


	5. Arcane Knowlege

AN: Yanno, if I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing my own crap ass novel, so obv I don't.

AN2: Okay, don't get mad, I said I would try not to do more classroom chapters, but this one kind of needs to happen, and I'll dot them throughout the story as the information I want to impart is vital to the plot. Just… if you don't like them, skim at least okay?

AN3: The start of this chapter covers things that some people (especially men) may find uncomfortable or even distressing. I understand completely if you need to avoid those sections and I'll do my best not to make them important to the main plot, but they need to be said. Additionally further into the chapter and indeed the story itself we'll be diving into theoretical necromancy, which some people may find repugnant. Be warned. On a brighter note there's a decent sized lime at the end of the chapter.

-:-

Chapter Five: Arcane Knowledge

Hermione woke up with the now familiar sensation of Harry's morning wood pressing between the cheeks of her arse. It was hard to believe that not fourteen months ago they had only been close friends. Now here she was with the love of her life holding her close and pressing himself into her back and bum. Sighing happily she snuggled back into him, revelling in the feeling of his rather study body providing a wealth of support for her much more slender frame. He was her rock, emotionally and physically.

It bothered her that, though his body was obviously quite ready to participate in some morning exercise she knew his mind was not. Several times they had gotten close to breaking the long dry spell neither of them had wanted but at the last moment Harry had baulked, visions of his trauma flashing through their mind and thoroughly ruining any kind of amorous mood. Sighing softly she turned in his arms as he slept to observe his sleeping face. She never grew tired of running her hands over his stubbly cheeks in the morning, revelling in their masculine roughness.

Before the end of term Lavender had queried Harry's stubble that he always seemed to have, more why Hermione hadn't had Harry shave it all off. The answer had been quite simply that she liked seeing Harry as a man, not a boy, and his stubble was one part of that. He was far too mature to be called a boy, he was absolutely a man and neither of them wanted him to appear otherwise. She knew Harry took a strange sense of pride in his stubble; she had never bothered to delve into the emotion preferring to puzzle out the motivations behind it herself.

She felt his stirrings of consciousness in the bond and smiled wanly as his smooth unlined face gained a small collection of frown wrinkles and he dropped his jaw in a sleepy yawn. She moved forwards and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, just letting him know she was there if he wasn't cognizant to realize that he had both his hands on her arse. His sleepy query of "Wazzat?" made her smile grow and she moved forwards for a much deeper and more loving kiss. His hands moved further up her back and she sighed softly against his lips.

He held her close, so close she almost wondered if he had finally broken out of his funk. It turned out to simply be a loving kiss however as his mind engaged and he shuffled closer for another sweet kiss. His arms loosened and he moved backwards off the bed, his mind still foggy with sleep as he headed towards the en-suite in a haze. Hermione propped herself up on one elbow, the sheets falling from her shoulder and baring her nude torso to the slightly chill morning air. She couldn't help but admire that arse.

She sighed softly again as she pondered how to help her love, his body was against him these days as the weather got wetter and colder. His old scars stiffened as the weather worsened and she knew from experience that winter mornings were particularly troublesome for him. As it was only autumn it wasn't too bad but she wished there was something more she could do to help him beyond simply being there for him. The aches and stiffness aside his body was still betraying him by abandoning all ideas of stiffness at the most inopportune times. She knew that he was deeply ashamed of his weakness no matter what she said.

It was strange she thought, when rape was discussed normally it was always with the assumption that it was a woman being attacked. And the issues surrounding such events were naturally femininely oriented. But she had noted that the results of Harry's attack were much different. She had read several reports of women becoming skittish around all men, being unable to go near them or have physical contact, often developing phobias surrounding masculinity. For Harry it was slightly different; he was quite comfortable around Hermione, although she suspected that was because she made him feel safe, and he was comfortable enough hugging her mother, probably for the same reasons.

But when it came to any kind of intimacy at all, whether it be sexual or even in their minds he often shied away, certainly he avoided sexual contact of all kinds. It was like the stereotype of masculine isolation and emotional stunting was being enforced by his inability to open up to her. During the holidays he began to withdraw from her mentally but she had refused to give up on him and they had, through great effort, managed to hold onto their bond. That had been one of the most terrifying times of her life, now that she had Harry, had him all for her own in the most fulfilling relationship she could ever imagine, she never wanted to lose him, ever.

When he had finally broken through that hurdle she had hoped that the issues surrounding physical and sexual intimacy would fade soon after. While he had managed to retain his ability to show her affection through hugs and kisses he had become almost completely impotent when it came to the bedroom. Prickly tears sprang to her eyes as she considered how much it hurt him every time he failed to 'rise to the occasion' as it were. The first few times this had happened Hermione had been honestly hurt, thinking that it was Harry's lack of attraction to her that was causing the issue. Harry readily informed her otherwise and had, haltingly, explained his issue.

Since then Harry had become more and more skittish to do with sexual intimacy, unwilling to put him in a position where he might fail her again, where his body might betray him once more. Hermione had done her best to reassure him that she understood but it was hard to reach out to him when the problem was out of their control. It was honestly the biggest stress in their relationship. Hermione turned a bitter thought to the girl who had caused this, intentionally or otherwise.

Fleur Delacour was once their friend, she was the closest either of them had ever had to a true friend that was outside themselves and Ron, bless his soul, but now? Now Fleur was a spike of malcontent between them that was driving a wedge into their relationship, she was a horrific memory of betrayal and hurt for Harry and for Hermione she was a symbol of every issue the pair had between them, the few that they did.

Hermione opened her arms and welcomed Harry back into the bed as he returned from the bathroom, the call of nature satisfied. He wrapped his arms around her and, instantly, she felt her worries evaporate. Here was the most wonderful man in her life, holding her, silently promising her that they would work through this. It was all she could ever ask for and she reminded him of this with a heartfelt kiss.

It would be many minutes until the pair of young lovers was cognizant enough to begin readying for their day. Deep in Harry's mind Hermione noted a spark, a spark of determination and lust, and she had hope that there would be an end to their plight soon; an end to her frustration and their unwanted celibacy, an end to Harry's pain and his unceasing torment.

She hoped, and in the quiet recesses of her mind, and she prayed.

-:-

Breakfast was unnaturally subdued. The school at large was still reeling in shock that Draco and his bodyguards had attempted to kill Harry and Hermione. It wasn't so much that the pair of teenagers was well known by everyone, so it wasn't a personal shock to the residents of the school. Rather it was a worry for their personal safety. Harry was well understood to be the most powerful teenager in the school. His victory in the open duelling competition last year and the spectacular nature of the win had cemented that idea firmly in their minds.

But he had been laid low, by a single spell no less. Cast from the shadows and in surprise. If that could happen to Harry Potter, none of them were safe. To Hermione's surprise most of the teachers also looked worried, Professor McGonagall included. Dumbledore suspiciously seemed oblivious to the school's disquiet.

Never mind the fact that two students had died yesterday, not the ones originally targeted but Hermione knew full well that she had taken two lives. She had been almost insensate the night before; Harry had spent many hours with her in their bed, cradling her sobbing body through the shock of what she had done. She shuddered at the memory; her mind had played tricks on her, made her think her hands were dripping with blood. Eventually Harry had overridden her senses, showing her with his own eyes that no such thing was occurring. It was just one more reminder of why she loved him, why this bond was so important to their lives. She didn't think she would be able to go back to functioning on her own in society if anything ever happened to him.

She could barely even remember what it was like to be alone in her head, barring the brief period last night it had been a long time since they had been separate. She had the memories of course, but they felt muted as if they were being viewed through a screen of falling water, or frosted glass. Just thinking about the time before their bond had formed brought back feelings long buried, her rage at the Dursleys, her desire to make Harry see her as a girl, not just a friend. Events further back like Ron's humour and Ginny's blushing nervousness around harry brought a bitter taste to her mouth. Harry's mind once again swept through hers, banishing the distressing thoughts and bringing her back to the present. She came back to her senses to a wave of tittering from those around them as she realized she had been staring into Harry's eyes for God knows how long.

She grinned and leaned forwards for a chaste kiss before moving back, loving the delighted groans from girls all around them. She felt blessed to have Harry for her very own. He really was an amazing catch. She laughed as he caught hold of that stray thought and made a rather appalling fish impression totally baffling the people around them. The other students must think them totally mad, one laughing her head off hysterically, the other impersonating a fish.

After finishing breakfast they got up together and headed to Arithmancy, leaving a Gryffindor table filled with bewildered faces.

-:-

They were a little shocked by Arithmancy this year, apparently OWL year Arithmancy studies revolved around the study of the interactions between magic itself and the real world, not spells per se, but raw magic that was emitted by magical creatures and phenomenon. A brief glance down the year's syllabus listed a variety of mythological and legendary instances that were apparently the result of raw magic interacting with the physical world.

The list was a long one and included such illustrious names as; The Fountain of Youth, the Bermuda Triangle and to Hermione's great amusement. UFO's. Apparently the source of many science fiction films was actually a result of magical birds of prey obfuscating their location improperly. When she looked for the practical applications and how they would be tested on it she felt her eyes bulge slightly in shock at the five words listed on the parchment.

'Muggle Repelling and Disinteresting Wards'

Her hand shot up immediately and she felt Harry's amusement at her eagerness. Professor Vector seemed rather indifferent however.

"Yes Miss Granger?"

"Sir, are we really going to be studying warding this year?"

"Yes Miss Granger."

Sometimes the professor's complete lack of ability to rise to a student's enthusiasm was disheartening but she couldn't really blame the older man. He taught one of the most rigid disciplines of Magic and as a natural result she supposed he would be rather staid. Suitably subdued she sat calmly as the man continued with his lecture. This would be an interesting term. Already they were tackling advanced magical theory in two different classes on top of their normal work. Not to mention conjuration in Transfiguration and their studies with Professor Umbridge.

She noted Harry's amusement at her enthusiasm and aimed a subtle kick at his shins under the table. His grin erupted into a supressed laugh and Professor Vector turned a baleful glare in his direction.

"Something you wish to share Mr Potter?"

Hermione's smile curled slyly as her boyfriend appeased the stern professor. Yes, this term was going to be excellent.

-:-

Just as the day before the door slammed shut abruptly, this time just after the last of the fifth years had sat down, namely Seamus. Umbridge didn't even give them time to pull out parchment and quills as she launched straight into her lecture. Not one to waste time apparently.

"I'll not be following up on the reading. You were given homework to do, this is your OWL year, and I'm not the one who'll suffer if you don't do it."

Her hand flicked carelessly and if Harry hadn't been watching it intently he would have missed the quick flash of motion as her wand appeared there. The flick turned into a swish and the board was immediately returned to its state from the previous day with all four lists sitting there in her cramped handwriting.

"We discussed Poltergeists and Ghosts yesterday, nothing more than an introduction really but we don't have time for more. Those of you curious to some of the more in depth detail can find many relevant texts in the library, but know that you won't be tested on them in your exams, as I said previously they are merely an introduction into the world of the undead. Today we move on to the least of the dangerous undead, Wraiths and Phantoms.

So far we have dealt with incorporeal undead, and shall continue to do so, that is those undead who have not assumed a physical form. This makes them both easier to banish but more dangerous on the face of things, primarily because they are not constrained by the laws of nature and are able to pass through solid matter to reach their goals or avoid attack, though few are intelligent enough to do so. Firstly then we must identify a separate but not unrelated topic, that being spirits. A spirit is easily defined as the soul of a mortal being no longer attached to its original physical vessel. This is an important definition as it is not undead, merely something that has moved on, all true undead originally were spirits, as they were called back from the Great Beyond.

We shall begin with Wraiths as they are the most common of the incorporeal undead, more common even than ghosts and poltergeists though there are few enough of the latter regardless. Wraiths are the result of a particularly nasty piece of necromancy that ties a spirit to a talisman or trinket. Usually it is something of great personal value to the necromancer in question and it forces the soul to protect the item lest it be banished back to the realms of the damned.

At first the spirits are quite eager to return as the pain of being locked on this plane of existence is quite severe for a spirit that has passed on. However with time the pain breaks down the spirit until it becomes a wraith, that Is the merest shadow of its former self, a hollow copy of the original spirit broken down to its basest form, that is a creature that desires only a body of its own. Muggles often call these creatures demons as they are responsible for what many muggles claim as 'possession', this is because when a wraith contacts a living being it forces its way into the body and inhabits it.

The result is a creature that is quite insane locked in a physical shell and quite unconcerned about its own safety. For so long as the trinket to which it is bound remains intact the creature can jump into a variety of hosts forcing itself upon them until they perish. It is a horrific fate for any spirit to succumb to, not least of which because it is one of the rare instances of the corruption of the immortal soul of a once living being. This is particularly distressing when one considers that the soul is, as far as we can tell, totally immortal and wraiths will remain insane for the rest of time."

Harry shared an uneasy glance with Hermione. Their souls were linked indefinitely now, what would be to happen if one day in the far future one of them was turned into a wraith? Would they both suffer for all time? It made him shiver at the thought.

"Fortunately it is somewhat easy to protect oneself from inhabitation with a sorcerous shield. Wraiths being almost entirely pure magic cannot pass through the barrier, much in the same way that a patronus protects it's caster from a Dementor by creating a wall between him or her and the Lethifold. The sorcery shield creates an impassable wall in the path of an attacking Wraith. Banishing them is, as was discussed yesterday, a seventh year topic, suffice it to say that destroying a Wraith's anchor is the only way to banish it, with certain procedure of course. However if you should ever encounter one of these tortured souls a simple full body sorcery shield will suffice to defend you from it. Can everyone here produce such a barrier?"

The six Gryffindors all nodded and the intimidating woman gave a jerky nod before continuing. She was standing behind her chair, leaning on the back of it in a relaxed fashion, her cloak was draped over her desk and her hat was as usual pressed firmly on her head.

"Identifying a Wraith is challenging unlike Dementors they do not produce any kind of aural effect that heralds their presence and they are usually completely silent, and as such are excellent ambush hunters if they retain the intelligence to act in such a fashion. Be very wary if you ever explore any kind of ruin or abandoned structure as those are key locations for Wraith anchors to be hidden. Necromancers are almost always immune to the touch of Wraiths they summon; only particularly weak willed practitioners are ever at risk of falling prey to their own defences.

Identifying a wraith then relies entirely upon sight. They move somewhat slowly as, with no physical means of propelling themselves, they use the lambent magical energies still left within them to attack their prey. Wraiths lose energy as they age but inhabiting a magical being, a wizard or a witch most commonly, will revitalize them however and they are at their most dangerous directly after leaving a host as they are typically exceptionally fast and will recover a measure of their former intelligence, a wraith in such a state will attempt to regain a form that can manipulate the physical world, though few are successful. They are common only because many Wraiths still exist who's anchors have never been found; questions?"

For the first time in memory no one raised their hand. All six of the Gryffindors looked about in a bemused fashion before focusing on the Professor once more.

"Excellent, let's move on then to Phantoms. Like Wraiths, Phantoms are bound to this plane by a necromantic spell, most commonly a ritual. Unlike Wraiths, Phantoms are bound to locations, not objects. Much like Ghosts and Poltergeists, Phantoms will inhabit a structure, a copse of trees, or a cave; sometimes even a river or lake. Unlike Ghosts and Poltergeists they are very dangerous. A Phantom is only partially incorporeal; they gain physical abilities depending on their current energy levels and can even take a solid form if enough energy is stolen, in this way Wraiths and Phantoms share a common goal. They are also masterful tricksters, able to ensnare their targets with guile before trapping them, usually in a house or other such structure, where they will proceed to drain the life of their hapless victim.

In this respect they are comparable to the Venus flytrap. They will lure their victims in, sometimes with images of a lost loved one or perhaps piles of riches, and then they will trap their target and drain them, much the same a flytrap lures a fly and then traps it for digestion. They are also comparable to Vampires although they are potentially a much more dangerous being as they are hard to escape from and can strike almost without warning; though someone who is not easily fooled will have little trouble escaping a Phantom's trap. Some Phantoms, particularly extremely old ones, are able to manipulate physical objects in a magical manner, levitating candles is a common trick, though some are far more elaborate. Never underestimate the cunning and intelligence of a phantom, unlike a Wraith they are not bound so painfully and retain all of their guile, though it is twisted into darkness.

They can skim the thoughts of those around them, learning their secrets and there have been reports of Phantoms reading books in libraries around them improving upon their already formidable stores of knowledge. Identifying such a creature requires you to keep your eyes peeled for anything that seems just a bit too good to be true; often it will only be subtle but do not trust your eyes when you are in unexplored territory. Defending yourself against them is fortunately just as simple as it was to defend from a Wraith, so simple in fact that the same method is used. A simple sorcerous shield will drastically slow the life draining effects which will manifest as tiredness and fatigue. If you begin to experience these traits suddenly and without warning leave your current location immediately.

As you have probably realized these two undead are uncannily similar. It is mostly due to the purpose they serve, both are used as a defence against those who would intrude upon an area not meant for them. Wraiths often guard treasure vaults and Phantoms ancient crypts. Their original use was by the Egyptians to guard a Pharaoh's relics. Later they switched to Mummies, which we shall learn about at a later date!"

Harry was busy scribbling down the shorthand of her lecture which Harry had already memorized most of. She spoke in a clear manner that was easy for him to follow despite her slight rambling moments. He was thankful that she returned promptly to the point when she did so however. Hermione who had already finished her writing saw the Professor look at her hourglass, apparently calculating the time left in the class, apparently it was sufficient as she smacked the palm of her hand on the chair in front of her, achieving silence instantly in the wake of the talking that had sprung up.

"We have just enough time to cover Inferi and Skeletons, the weakest of the physical undead."

The class fell silent and Harry perked his ears up, by Umbridge's own admission these were the kinds of undead most commonly used by the Dark Witches and Wizards of the world. If Harry was a betting man he'd say Voldemort would summon these at some point to do his bidding.

"Firstly I want to reiterate that neither Inferi or Skeletons have a spirit within them, they are False Undead and should be treated when encountered as no more than the charmed anatomy that they are. Inferi are known by many names across the world, Zombies, Jiangshi, Hollows, or simply 'The Dead', but they are all one in the same animated corpses with little to no intelligence, and what intelligence they do have is artificial, crafted into them with runes or spells. Accordingly they can be wildly unpredictable depending on who enchanted them. A few years back a group of dormant Inferi were stumbled upon that proceeded to slaughter all the sheep in a village no one really knows why. That said they still killed everyone they came across, never forget that these creatures are the servants of those who hold no value for human life, or the life of any sentient being for that matter. They would as soon see you dead so that you can become fuel for their arts.

Identifying Inferi is remarkably simple, they will be a corpse, devoid of colour, clammy, slightly rotted shambling, although swift when enchanted correctly. Fire is your best defence against them, if not a powerful blasting sorcel or curse. De limb them and they become useless, go for the arms first if you can, else the shoulders or upper chest, beheading them does little, remember they are simply animated corpses, their brains have no value and they are guided by magic so their senses are moot. Fire of any kind will quickly catch on to an Inferi and incinerate them in seconds; I believe Professor McGonagall is teaching you Conjuration? The fire spell Ignis Exorior is an excellent defence against them, questions?"

No one raised their hands again and Harry chuckled under his breath, as did Neville. It was slightly surreal. Harry turned back to the front of the class to see Professor Umbridge taking a sip from a glass filled with the same strange tonic, he wondered not for the first time what brew she was drinking in that glass. Her voice returned to the room in full strength a half second later.

"If Inferi are the reanimated corpses of the dead, Skeletons then are a slightly simpler version of the art. Instead of muscles and other organs that surround the bones having to move along with them, it is merely the bones themselves that need locomotion. Strangely this lack of padding doesn't seem to hinder the creatures much as they are frequently too thin to hit easily with spells. It was also a common practise to soak the skeletons in Skelegrow or perform other rituals to increase their durability. The use of Skeletons has fallen out of favour of late in the necromantic circles as wizarding families have begun placing so called 'Rest in peace' wards on the graces of their ancestors and Muggle graveyards in Britain are mostly looted of their remains now regardless.

Most Necromancers don't want to wait for the dead to decompose to a state where skeletisation is applicable and simply create Inferi instead. Skeletons however have some traits that Inferi do not that make them a slightly superior choice: They are nimble for starters, and far more dexterous than their fleshy cousins. It is also possible to imbue them with a cunning intelligence, we have seen this many times in Skeleton hordes but we still are yet to understand how exactly it is achieved when no soul is involved.

Most Skeletons can wield weapons if needed but even without them they are unnaturally strong and are capable of tearing a fully grown man limb from limb. Do not engage them in close quarters under any circumstances, and use the 'Protego' shield spell rather than a sorcery shield as it won't help you at all against a skeleton's attack. Your best defence is rapidly fired high strength cutting curses or blasting curses, sorcels are equally effective. Aim your blasting attacks at their feet, if you can break their legs you can remove most of their mobility, and then aim your cutters at joints or the spine. A skeleton's enchantment will involve automatic repair charms that will seek to reunite the skeleton's pieces together to create a whole, if you can overwhelm the energy imbued into the spells that do this they will crumble to a loose collection of inert bones."

Harry noted with curiosity that she took very measured sips from that glass. It might just be a quirk of her nature but it could be something more.

"Identifying skeletons is, as you can probably imagine, somewhat simple, they are plainly obvious and really should need no instruction from me, if you are unsure you can look up the relevant diagrams in your text book in chapter four. Right, that's all we have time for today, I want you all to revise the chapters we've covered this week, that's chapters one to four, and if you get spare time read ahead to the next classes' chapter on Mummies and Draugr."

As Harry was packing up he caught a stab of disgruntlement from Hermione, looking curiously at her he cocked an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

"She hasn't set any essays yet, I've already done the reading, what am I supposed to do for homework?"

Harry rolled his eyes, only Hermione could be worried about not getting enough homework, let alone on the second day of school.

"How about you research that arithmantic equation for Incorporeal Magical Expenditure?"

The kiss she gave him was far too exuberant than what he thought the situation demanded but he wasn't complaining. They had just gotten into the corridor and she had pressed him up against the wall in an unusually aggressive move. After she pulled back he got an explanation for her attack.

"You're just so thoughtful, I imagine most other boys would just scoff and drop the issue but you actually had a solution for me, thank you love."

Harry scratched the back of his head nervously, he was still terrible at taking compliments and praise and they both knew it.

"It's the least I can do for you love."

He was ready this time when she launched herself back into his arms and he kissed her back firmly, only to break apart with a yelp when a stinging hex smacked him in the arm.

"Five points each from Gryffindor you two, no public displays of affection in the hallways."

Harry shot an apologetic look at Professor Umbridge who had just left her class

"Sorry Ma'am."

"Just don't let me catch you again, I know you two are bonded and all but you aren't above the rules, now of to lunch with both of you."

-:-

The two teens didn't look back as they headed to lunch, Victoria Umbridge kept a close eye on them as they went down the hallway before returning to her office. Sitting heavily in her chair she let her glamours fall. Where previously sat an enticingly beauteous woman sat instead a horrifically scarred wretch. The skin of her face was almost non-existent and her tongue could be seen through the hollow in her cheek between the strands of muscle. Her chin had a deep crack in it and her nose was half sheared away, cartilage and all. The right side of her face was significantly better off with skin over her cheek and nose, but the lower half of her jaw and neck were horribly disfigured. Groaning she took another sip of her tonic and felt it cover her tongue, keeping it from drying out and adding a layer of moisture on her palate.

The glass was set down carefully before she pulled a decanter from a cupboard in her desk with a watery crimson liquid filling it past three quarters. She took a champagne coupe from the same place and filled it modestly with the watery liquid. Sniffing it delicately she took a greedy draw from the glass, tilting her head slightly so that the liquid did not spill from her exposed cheek on the left side of her face in a well-practised motion. When the glass was drained she set it back on the desk and cleansed it before putting it and the decanter away.

Instantaneously the scarring on her face lifted and fresh skin flowed over her face knitting seamlessly into her existing dermis. Almost immediately though it began to peel at the edges, flaking slightly, grimacing the Unspeakable recast her glamours. It was a hassle to be taking multiple potions daily to keep her condition at bay but it was a necessary evil to fulfil the terms of her contract here. As soon as she got back to the ministry she was going to take a long bath in the revitalization tanks though. She was too old for this crap.

-:-

Lunch was significantly more boisterous than breakfast had been, apparently the school had forgotten it's earlier melancholy and Hermione had no idea how to feel about that. She was happy that people were getting on with their lives, but at the same time she felt a pang of hurt that people didn't care more that Harry had been attacked. If it had been her she would have understood; she was only a muggleborn after all. But here they were turning their backs on the scion of one of the oldest Wizarding families. Surely that should have mattered to them longer than a single breakfast?

Again, she was happy that people weren't dwelling on it too much, brooding did no one any good, but at the same time she was annoyed on Harry's behalf. The curling of said man's fingers around her own brought a soft smile to her lips and she sent it to him with a grateful look. Silently he let go of her hand and turned to his lunch, sending a stream of love at her over the bond almost subconsciously.

She glanced down at her day planner and nearly groaned, double potions with the Slytherins after lunch, wonderful. Harry beside her caught her thought and actually did groan, she couldn't help but laugh at him from behind her hand as he sank forwards and carefully rested his forehead against the table mumbling about being too tired to deal with the 'slimy snakes'. Resisting the urge to giggle, Hermione Granger does _not_ giggle, she tugged on his arm and mind, urging him up so that he could eat before they had to face the Slytherins again for the first time since last night.

Glancing at the green and silver table she locked eyes with Tracy and Daphne, the two girls were looking at her with amused smiles, not cruelly amused, but a sort of carefree amusement she had no idea Slytherins could possess. She realized they had probably laughed about Harry's pantomime as well. Hermione had a hard time gauging those two, she had been certain last year that they had a crush on Harry, but they had always been totally supportive of their relationship and, more to the point had been their only allies in Slytherin, ever.

Harry was complaining good naturedly under his breath about the whole situation but Hermione, still grinning, was able to get him down to the dungeons with time to spare.

-:-

"In fourteen sixty eight, a witch by the name of Luciphille laid out the groundwork for what would eventually become Mergot's law. That is that any potion, no matter its density, can only have dissolved into it one eighth of the volume of its constituent solid ingredients at the moment of induction of Dovernian Plimpie eye powder. Why is this significant? Because Dovernian plimpie eye powder is the strongest stabilizing agent known to wizard kind. Any potion, no matter how volatile, can be stabilized with this powder. This allows us to make some of the more esoteric potions known including the Draught of Clarity and Golpalot's stitching brew. Usually these potions detonate when their final ingredient is added as the combination of substances mixes creating an explosion."

Harry was a little gobsmacked, not by what Snape was saying, Hermione had already read this passage in her text book and, through her, Harry had read it as well. No it was the fact that he was speaking at all. Traditionally Snape set instructions on the board and then left the students to it, what had happened to shift the normally taciturn professor into a lecturer? Harry had no idea.

"Today you simpletons will be learning the appropriate way to determine the correct volume of powder you can add to your potion when it is required. You will be creating the relatively harmless strengthening solution, but every five minutes you will remove exactly five hundred millilitres of fluid from your cauldron and sluice it with the sluicing charm. Weigh the solid matter you receive from the charm and discern what the weight of one eight of the total will be.

After calculating this number you will note down your results and determine the rate at which the volume of solid matter inside the cauldron is increasing over time. Using your results you should be able to calculate the correct amount of powder that you would add to your cauldron at the instant before you add your final ingredient to the mix, exactly as you would if you were brewing a potion that actually required the power"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the usual modus operandi returned and the sallow skinned potions master flicked his wand at the board putting the instructions for the Strengthening solution on the board. A thought occurred to him and he asked Hermione in the bond as they began moving.

"Why can't we just total up the amount of solid matter that we need to add to the potion and then divide that by eight? Wouldn't we get the same result?"

Hermione huffed slightly, a mental sound that she had perfected, before answering him in her best instructional manner.

"Because over time the solid matter in the cauldron will dissolve at a constant rate into the unfinished potion, that's why you never drink a potion with any solid lumps in it, what we're trying to do in this exercise is discover exactly what the rate is that the solids are dissolving."

Harry nodded to himself that made sense, but…

"Why can't we just add more of the powder anyway? Why is it so important to add this exact amount?"

Hermione shot him an approving smile, he knew she loved it when he actually asked questions, tried to learn more. Despite their bond she still knew more than he did, she had libraries of information in her mind that would take him years to fully codex and identify. As it was however she was still encyclopaedic in her knowledge and he would be a fool not to ask questions of her.

"Too much and it nullifies the magic in the potion rendering it into so much foul muck. Too little and the potion doesn't stabilize properly, some potions actually call for this as the minor reaction caused by the unstable potion can actually catalyse the ingredients into something much greater than the sum of their parts. Chances are that will be the next topic."

Harry nodded, satisfied with her response and the answers he had got. He knew she had a much deeper understanding of the topic than she was letting on, he also knew that she was dumbing it down ever so slightly for him. He freely admitted that she was brighter than him, they had their strengths and weaknesses, and Hermione's razor sharp intelligence was one of her greatest strengths, Harry would never begrudge her that.

The first hour of the class passed with amicability that Harry had never experienced before in potions, then almost as if planned (And he wouldn't put it past the over grown bat) The moment they shifted into the second half of the lesson Snape was there at Harry's cauldron and the campaign of insults continued. Harry did his best to grit his teeth and bear it but if it hadn't been for Hermione's support in the bond he would have snapped at his teacher and landed himself in detention.

When the class finally ended Harry was fuming and ready to snap at anyone who rubbed him the wrong way, a poor Ravenclaw third year nearly copped his wrath when he accidentally barrelled straight into the angry fifth year. Once again Hermione was the only thing stopping him from lashing out. When they got back to their rooms she turned to him and sat him down with a furious expression on her face, internally he cringed.

"That bastard!"

Harry blinked, he had been so sure she was about to reprimand him for nearly attacking that third year but instead she was clearly talking about Snape. Harry was a touch ashamed that he hadn't picked up on the mien of her thoughts sooner; he had a direct link to her mind for Merlin's sake, but he had been so wrapped up in his anger that he had missed her thoughts completely. Silently he vowed to be better in the future.

"I want the balls of that ugly, foul, slimy, loathsome, twat of a _child_ on the head's table in front of _saint_ Dumbledore tomorrow for breakfast, I'm going to tear out his eyes and desiccate them for potions powder and see if _they_ can be used as a stabilizing agent then I'm going to rip off his..."

Harry's jaw dropped slightly lower with every passing second as his girlfriend and bond mate mouthed of in such a spectacular fashion that it left him stunned. Never before had he heard her use such foul language. She was using insults and invective that he had never even heard before, probably virtue of growing up in a muggle neighbourhood and not being locked inside every day. He sent a thought heavenwards hoping that somehow Ron was witnessing this phenomenon of verbal dexterity as clearly as he was.

"… and if he ever so much as sniffs in your direction again I'm going to use his greasy, filthy head as a kindling in the Gryffindor common room for the first years to warm up to this winter."

Harry decided she'd run her course and stood quickly enveloping her in a hug, only to note the strangely smug thoughts running through her mind, holding her at arm's length he said with amusement.

"You were distracting me."

She grinned slyly at him

"You're damn right I was, short of ripping off your clothes and shagging you this was the quickest way I could think of."

Harry blushed crimson, no matter how many times they were intimate (Admittedly none as of late), the idea of having actual sex with Hermione always sent him straight into blush mode. It was something he was looking forward to with great eagerness but he wanted to wait, as did she, for a variety of reasons.

"Surely you could have just kissed me?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him

"Give me some credit Harry, I already thought of that, but let's face it you have the mental ability to kiss me and be angry at Snape at the same time. I needed to shock you, and I really hate slapping you it hurts me almost as much as it hurts you, literally."

His hand came up, almost of its own accord, and cupped her cheek, his thumb gently caressing her skin.

"Thank you."

It was all that needed saying, slowly he took her into his arms and kissed her with as much passion as he could summon at that point. It was quite a bit and they were nearly late to dinner.

-:-

When they finally did reach the great hall with much more relaxed expressions it was to a bit of a shock, Hedwig was waiting for them at their usual places with a letter on her leg. This was particularly strange as normally Hedwig would search them out and attempt to deliver the letter as soon as possible. Frowning Hermione took the letter when Harry's familiar held its leg out to her.

Curiously she broke the seal on the letter (A capital 'M' embossed into a circle of candle wax) and read through it frowning at its contents. It was a letter from the ministry that she guessed was somewhat generic as it covered the details of the trial that she apparently still had to go to. Harry turned to her and she met his eyes exchanging a brief flurry of thoughts with him. Their minds were one on this matter, talk to Umbridge tomorrow, and if that didn't settle the matter, go to Dumbledore.

Setting the letter aside she loaded her plate and shared a silent conversation with Harry as they enjoyed their evening meal, the taint of the ministry letter sitting between them like an omen.

-:- Lime in this section.-:-

They obliterated their homework that night in record time and penned a letter to the elder Grangers, eager to update them on their first two days back, also eager to reassure them that they were both fine, they weren't sure if Dumbledore had sent a letter to them informing them of what had happened yesterday evening but they filled out the details themselves in the letter so as to avoid confusion.

When at last they set the letter aside Harry took Hermione's hand and tugged her lightly to the bed. Heart fluttering at the romantic gesture she tugged off her shirt where it joined his on the floor and sat next to him where he was positioned against the headboard and snuggled into his chest, humming happily as he held her.

"I love you."

It had always been rare for him to vocalise his love for her, especially with the bond and how they could talk between themselves in total silence. She personally preferred speaking aloud when they were alone, she did so love his voice. He clearly had something on his mind though so she quietly said 'I love you too' and waited for him to get whatever he was thinking about off his chest. She could of course have simply dipped into his mind to get the information, but he clearly thought this bore speaking about and she would let him do that.

"Earlier today, you knew exactly what I needed to break me out of my funk at Snape; you've been there for me through everything, Snape, The tournament, The Graveyard, Fleur. I don't know if I've ever told you just how much I appreciate how much you do for me, without me ever asking, or hinting that I need help, you know, and you're there for me. So thankyou love, thank you for everything you do for me on a daily basis. I don't know where I'd be without you but, chances are, I wouldn't be here at all."

She felt a rush of pride at his words, she knew of course how much she mattered to him, and she could feel it from him every day. And while they weren't mentally in each other's pockets, sharing every thought and feeling like they could be, she knew full well exactly how grateful he was. But to have him make a point of saying it, when he could just as easily have let it pass them by, meant more to her than she thought it would. Humming again she nuzzled his chest and kissed him once on his bare skin.

"You're welcome love, I'd be a somewhat poor girlfriend if I had all this access to what's going on in your life and I just left you to fend for yourself."

What came next she wasn't ready for, she felt dampness on her head and looked up to see him gazing at the far wall, his eyes brimming with tears, one of which had escaped and, having run down his cheek and chin, dripped onto her hair. She went to move up his body to comfort him but he held her, gently but firmly in place. She understood, he needed this time, to say whatever it was that was bothering him, and if she interrupted him it might break the gumption he had summoned.

"That's just it, you're an amazing girlfriend, an amazing bond mate, you anticipate my needs, you look after me better than I could ever ask for, and you care for me as if it's second nature. And how do I repay you? With ignorance and thoughtlessness; when was the last time I was even remotely close to equalling the care you show for me?"

Her hand came up and cupped his cheek, pulling his gaze to hers. She spoke then, with a tone that brooked no argument.

"This Harry, this is why I love you. Any other man would have simply carried on, going about their day with nary a care for me, but here you are tearing up over your perceived lack of attention to me. You ask when you last equalled my care for you. You do it every day, the gentle touches when we're walking to let me know you're still there, every time you hold a door for me without thinking, or rub my feet in the evenings as if it were the simplest thing in the world. All of that Harry and so much more is how you equal my devotion to you. More than once I've caught you wondering how to keep that locket you got me for my birthday a secret, don't worry I already know and I love you for it all the more."

She reached up and kissed him soundly before settling back against his chest, peppering it with small kisses between words

"You… do… more… than… enough… love."

He started laughing then, that open honest sound that she found herself craving more often than not. It was a pure sound, free of artifice or deceit as he truly let loose. His voice, that strong rich masculine voice that she loved to hear rang forth, confident now, the sadness and self-loathing purged from it like so much mud washed from a golden plaque.

"Enough gorgeous, that tickles. C'mere you, time for payback."

She shrieked playfully, all thoughts of their serious discussion vanished as his arms hooked around her waist as she tried to flee, tugging her back onto the bed where he proceeded to tickle her mercilessly. Growling playfully she wriggled out of his grasp, only to turn and tackle him to the bed kissing him soundly and pushing his hands down on either side of his head. He tried to buck her off with his hips but she had her legs around his waist, knees pinning him down, and was refusing to be moved.

She moved lower, nipping at his neck before suckling hard at his pulse. Abruptly his laughs turned to a throaty moan and she felt her panties soak at the rich masculine sound. Just like that the mood shifted, where playful it was not sexual and for the first time in months Hermione felt his arousal rising between her legs with him fully awake and aware. She threw her mind at his, meshing them together intimately, hoping to purge his mind of the thoughts that had until now ended their trysts before they could begin.

Strangely though she couldn't find any hint of the dreaded memories, only a deep lust that had her shuddering in desire. She moved lower, taking care to grind her centre against his cock as she moved lower and she was heartened at the sound of another throaty moan ripping from his throat and the answering buck that his hips made against hers.

His voice rose again and she pulled back to lock her eyes on his at the words

"I want you."

It was such a simple statement but one that carried massive weight for her. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for since the graveyard. He had finally broken through that last barrier of pain and was hers again. She didn't waste any time.

Her hand snaked into his briefs and wrapped securely around his length, which was rock hard and twitched in her hand. She groaned at the feeling, it had been too long. She felt a sense of feminine pride that his attraction to her had finally broken through his mental strife. That pride spiked when his hands moved up her chest to her bra covered breasts. Some kind of magic passed through his hands into her chest and she moaned in sheer pleasure at the feeling and abruptly she felt her naked skin on his hands. Glancing down she noted that whatever he had done had removed her bra as well as apparently stimulating her, she wondered which part of that was the main purpose of the spell.

He reprimanded her for thinking such thoughts in their passion and obliterated the differences between them, seeking a deeper joining.

They didn't know who's hand pumped their length, who's lips sucked at their breasts. They were one now, a single entity with the sole objective of bringing as much mutual pleasure to both bodies that it possibly could without succumbing to the temptation of intercourse. Their cock was engulfed in a feminine mouth which proceeded to suck hard, tongue flattened on the underside as their cock was drawn deeply into the warm wet throat that so eagerly welcomed it.

Maybe an hour passed, maybe it was two perhaps three? Orgasms weren't the goal, although they were delicious side effects, rather it was a reconnecting of sorts, a reaffirmation of their affection for one another, the physical aspect of their relationship that had been on hold for months. As the light in the Scottish sky faded in the window to blackness the two teens remained wrapped around one another, touching, kissing, caressing, licking, stroking, and fingering.

They separated several times during the night, and each was for a new experience, boldness and inquisitiveness driving an experimental urge in both of them. Hermione was the first to use a finger on her partner's arse after a quick cleansing charm. It was reciprocated soon after as Harry drove her to orgasm with his tongue in her folds. She took him between her breasts at one point, him fucking her cleavage with a lustful stroke. Later he sucked on her toes, delighting in her moans of pleasure.

It was erotic and sensual, beautiful and passionate, and at the end when they were curled up together under the covers of their bed, totally spent and panting with exhaustion they could only smile and Hermione's smile was the broadest of all. He was hers again, mind, heart, and finally body. And she had given herself to him gloriously, fully seven times her cum had flowed over his fingers or tongue, two of those with his fingers buried in her ass pumping in time with the thrusting of his tongue between her folds, and once over his cock as she rode him, grinding him lengthways across her clit and giving them both pleasure without penetration.

She had urged him on and had exulted in his expression of love as he spilled himself across his stomach. She hadn't let his cum go to waste though; it was just too delicious to leave sitting there to go cold and sticky. Twice he had cum in her mouth, once down her throat as he roughly fucked her mouth, her mental urgings pushing him on, and once over her tongue as she revelled in the taste. That second time he had cum with her finger massaging his prostate from the inside, and he had moaned exquisitely as he pulsed inside her mouth, flooding her oral cavity with his spunk.

She felt utterly divine as she lay there in his arms, her body aching pleasantly from the workout it had received and her nether regions fluttering in post orgasmic bliss. They were both sweaty, and stinking of cum and her own fluids. But they were happy, satiated and deeply in love, and they fell asleep still wrapped in each other's arms, both too tired to care about anything else but the bond mate in their arms. In the days to come they would yearn for this feeling of completeness and satisfaction, for it would elude them for some time.

-:- Lime, and the chapter, ends -:-

AN4: Another late one huh? I'm not feeling hugely inspired at the moment for whatever reason but here you are. A little under quota for words, but hey, I can't produce 10K words all the time, I'm not perfect.

AN5: A bit of a gripe here, someone (In a review of deceit) mentioned that they were bothered with the constant relationship references and sections of the chapters and how the characters often extoll each other's virtues. I'm sorry I wasn't aware I was writing a pair of middle aged house parents, have you ever been a teenager in love? The merits of your partner are practically the only thing you can think of half the time, and I can't speak for women but I sure as hell know that as a guy I'm more likely to see the good side of my partner rather than the bad, especially in the first few months. The fact that they're still like this is because they're bonded in their freaking minds. They can't help but be reminded of the reasons they love each other every freaking day. And aside from that this is still a damn love story despite the dark overtones. Get, over, it.

-:-Rant over. -:-

AN6: Review responses:

Jslll54 and Texan Muggle: Thanks you two, I wouldn't have even noticed if someone hadn't pointed it out. I've had this problem with fanfic a few times actually where the site accidentally selects the wrong document to attach to a chapter despite telling me it's the right one when I select it.

Lupinesence: Thanks, I'm happy you enjoyed the lesson there's going to be more ;.; it would be a shame if it bored you.

Beyond the sea: Who got cared up indeed? The news won't reach them for some time, Dumbles being Dumbles after all. And yeah, Umbridge has a few creepy surprises, not a demon, but I won't say more.

Pairingmatters: She is isn't she? I was hoping that would be apparent

Shadow Dragon: Hey, why limit them to one element? With sorcery as powerful and varied as it is and magic being magic why would a persona be able to only learn one type of 'elemental' magic. More to the point why is it significant? Why use a spear of ice when a jab or piercing hex does the same thing? Why use a wall of fire when with a bit of manipulation sorcery can achieve the same? Conjuration is more about control and learning than actual practical applications, remember, this isn't a video game where things have resistances requiring different elements to circumvent, these are people, in a real battle situation, they aren't going to fuck around with fire and ice and lighting and boulders when a sorcel or curse can do the same thing quicker. As a side note I personally don't like 'shadow' as an element, I'm more classical with the whole 4 elements shtick and if you see any 'showy' Elementalism within the fics it will be along those lines, as for why teach them at all if it's so useless? Why teach students how to turn a matchstick into a pin? Training, teaching them a process, same thing here. I'm honestly not sure how I'm going to tackle Harry's critter (That is such a fitting name for them) in the race, I almost feel like it would be cheating to have him pitted against them, maybe have him help judge? Idk. With the animagus transformation I feel the same way about that that I do about the elemental magic, it's mostly just showy, although in Harry's case it has emotional connections… We'll see. I certainly don't have plans for them to learn it yet, and as for sorcery? What is there not to learn, it's a branch of magic dedicated to bringing the user's will into a physical plane of existence, where are the limits again? When will they ever stop learning? My god that was a long reply to a review, sheesh, anyways, thanks for your review it was a good read and asked good questions.

Imortalgee: *zips lips* I didn't say anything of the sort good sir I don't know where you got that atrocious idea ;.;. Also, Emma and Dan aren't dying, I'll give you guys that one as a freebie. As for other members of the order? Eh… maybe. I'm not hugely attached to them and they don't serve much of a purpose as of yet, maybe in the next book.

Anotherboarduser: I can't ask for a better response, fun, exciting, and engaging, excellent thanks for your review!

Issis: *Blushes* Well I mean I could be up for some legilimency if it meant I got to meet such an avid fan. Also yes, you may bow to the almighty Lucian.

Jaymekaerns: Gah, must, prevent more, blushing. Thank you!

Alright folks, that's it for another chapter, thanks for reading and other shenanigans it's always greatly appreciated. Stop in next time for: Chapter Six: Q&A, whereupon a taciturn member of the Deception series cast comes back into the spotlight and Hermione avoids jail.

LGreymark


	6. Q&A

AN: Standard disclaimer, it is blindingly obvious I don't own the Harry Potter universe.

AN2: A bit of warning the end of the chapter is a bit gruesome, although why you're still reading this series if you can't handle that is beyond me, you must have missed so much of the plot.

-:-

Chapter Six: Q&A

The trial was thick and heavy on the two teens minds for the full three weeks that it took to quash the allegations, in that time they learned a great many knew things from all their teachers; Professor Flitwick had pulled put them through the most difficult charms exercises they had ever encountered, along with the project the whole of fifth year was working on for charms they were also learning their OWL level studies which were punishingly difficult and exhausting, at least for most of the class. Hermione refused to let Harry's ego about his power levels get out of control though, only gently prodding it to make sure it lived and thrived, he needed something else to be proud of.

Harry had taken it upon himself to craft a whole new invention for the race, specifically designed for the kind of tasks Professor Flitwick had set, especially for speed. He knew it was cheating and as such he had a less 'juiced' creation to run competitively, mostly he was going all out on his secondary creatio sort of personal challenge.

The major issue he was encountering was the time with which the creatures would remain powered over any kind of distance when moving at speed. Usually they charged themselves up by absorbing the ambient magic that naturally existed around their creator, but in a race they rapidly ran out of energy.

It took him about a week do discern the cause, because they were made of metal they were heavy for their size and used a great deal of energy when required to jump any distance at all. Seeking to lessen the energy drain required by such an event Harry bored small circular holes in the flat plates of the critter's legs and body, removing a great deal of metal that was weighting it down, additionally he installed small springs in the creature's joints in such a way that it would naturally spring forwards with each step further increasing it's efficiency.

This led to more problems as it often hopped right of the end of whatever surface it was running on and Harry had to devise a new method of detecting the terrain in front of it so that the creation could more accurately aim it's leaping hops. Hermione commented one evening that he might want to try a variant of the mage sight charm, that is actually give the small creation proper sight so that it could assess all the terrain in front of it rather than just the rudimentary shape of it. Harry had scratched his chin at this suggestion, honestly stumped at how to imbue the tiny creature with a spell meant to aid normal sight, and still have it actually be beneficial to the naturally sightless contraption.

Eventually he stumbled upon a solution that, while slightly time consuming and fiddly, was excellent: The mage sight charm worked by enhancing the image received by the retinas in the Human body, essentially just magical magnification and/or augmentation. Scientifically speaking this meant that the spell altered the way light interacted with the rods and cones within the human eye, producing an altered image for the brain to analyse. To exploit this Harry carved a pair of miniscule eyes for the contraption with his ultra-fine wizarding jeweller's tools. The tiny brass hollow spheres had a single pane of quartz at their face and it was on this quartz that Harry cast the mage sight charm, light would go in through the quartz lenses and be converted into magical signals by the charm's variant, which a set of runes on the inside of each brass eye deciphered, analysed and then fed the information to the rune clusters all over the mechanical creation's body. He had at first experimented with only a single eye for simplicity's sake but the information that was transferred from the mage sight variant to the rune clusters was incomplete and resulted in some truly hilarious mishaps as the critter leapt gleefully from any surface it could find unaware that it had nothing to land on until it hit the ground. Harry very nearly gave the small creation a tinny voice so that he could amuse himself with its squeals of what he imagined would be joy. Unfortunately he was totally unable to do so without the proper charms and had to give up on the idea with a resigned finality.

The creation itself was six legged, a number Harry found quite pleasing to work with, the symmetry and elegance of six legs seemed to mesh well with his aesthetic style and he ran with it. Each of the legs was multi segmented and powered with miniature tungsten springs that he had transfigured with great care under Hermione's supervision, tungsten was a dangerous metal to transfigure as it was incredibly dense and if any air pockets remained inside the metal they could explode under the pressure. Fortunately Harry was by now a master of stone to metal transfigurations and could happily achieve his goal; crafting the stone springs with the shaping charms had been an exercise in frustration however.

He would have simply transfigured a block of the stone into tungsten and worked from there but he was restricted in several ways, firstly he couldn't enchant the springs at all if he worked in such a manner, the metal refusing to hold the enchantments unless they were pre-existing when it was transfigured, secondly transfiguring thicker quantities of the metal was exceedingly dangerous, more so than normal as it was much easier to mentally overlook the centre of the block of stone and leave only a hyper compressed pocket of air and other gasses that would explode the moment he tried working with it.

Finally he had few charms that worked on metals to shape them easily meaning he would have to hand coil two dozen springs five millimetres in diameter, not a fun task, especially when tungsten was such a solid metal, which made it great for springs, but a pox to work with manually, and especially in such small scale. Those multi segmented legs connected to a metal framework that, while sturdy, was much lighter than his old carapace designs. Situated at the front of this strange conglomeration of tiny metal struts was a minute head comprising of a thumbnail sized sphere containing the two eyes. Within the larger sphere were more runes that controlled the flow of magical information across the rest of the mechanical bug, not unlike a brain. Of course the eyes and head had to be carved first from stone in minute detail before being transfigured, a task that saw almost as much hair pulling as the springs.

It was far from done. He still had to embed a multitude of quartz stones into the metal struts which would allow for fine tuning of the artificial intelligence he had painstakingly enchanted. Then dozens of test runs awaited him as he carefully worked out the kinks in his design. It truly was a wonderful piece of workmanship and Harry knew that Hermione was deeply proud of him for accomplishing such a feat, just as he was proud of her for leaping ahead so dramatically in conjuration.

-:-

Transfiguration had become something of a test of wills between Harry and Hermione, the class had moved on rapidly from conjuring small flames to actual living creatures in the palms of their hands. Invertebrates had been first and Harry had taken great pleasure in conjuring ants and other small insects into his hand to watch them move about. Thankfully they hadn't been working with the slimier invertebrates like snails. While Harry was amusing himself with insects however Hermione had moved on to birds. She apparently had a talent for the magical art which didn't surprise Harry in the slightest, much in the same way that she was adept at Hexwork where it required total focus, here too she thrived off the challenge of mentally imagining every part of the creatures they were summoning before bringing them into existence.

The animals were not long lived and disappeared abruptly after a few seconds as they were purely magical constructs, living matter made from magic itself. The raw magic they were essentially bullying into shape refused to stay put for long and dispersed rapidly, hence the short life spans of the magical animals. But as Professor McGonagall often told them, this was a vital stepping stone to greater things. Hermione however had refused to accept that this was a simple stepping stone and had taken it upon herself to find practical applications for the art. One of her favourite new tricks whenever one of the other students taunted her was to toss an enraged sparrow at them that she had conjured into existence rapidly.

About a week after her first discovery she had laughed out loud in their quarters and had gone quite hysterical for some time. Harry, finally amused enough to turn around and see what had tickled his love quite so much was struck with the thought of a muggle magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, Hermione's projected thought expanded to show the aftermath of whatever party the magician had attended to show a laughing wizard in robes wandering away.

Catching on to what Hermione was so amused by Harry quickly joined her in helpless laughter. Between gasps of air when she finally calmed she said

"Statue… of secrecy… my arse!"

Harry had dissolved into fits of laughter once more closely followed by Hermione who had collapsed backwards on their bed with her knees tucked into her chest as she laughed.

It had been good to let off some of the stress of the court case that wasn't to be, they had needed a good laugh for a while and both admitted later that the thought hadn't been _that_ funny. For the rest of their lives though the two would have to supress a chuckle whenever they conjured an animal.

-:-

As prefects they were required to spend a bit of time in the Gryffindor common room to make sure the students weren't getting too rowdy, as a result they ended up socialising with a great deal more people than they thought they would, and questions were asked of Harry about his speech at the end of last year.

"Well we've been here nearly a month Harry and so far as I know you haven't made a single training session available to us."

Harry looked up from where his head was resting in Hermione's lap on the couch at Seamus who was the latest to question what was happening. Before he could respond however a deeper voice spoke up, one with a rich aristocratic accent.

"Attacks happen to Potter all the time, he's used to them, he probably trains in his spare time daily, but to the rest of us they're frightening, they're sudden and they're unexpected, and most of us are woefully unprepared."

Harry sat up to the sound of Neville Longbottom's voice as his words carried around the common room, fourth through seventh years were nodding in agreement with the young heir's words.

"But what right do we have to beg him for help when many of us believed what the prophet has been spouting this summer."

Harry felt Hermione perk up at this; they didn't get the Prophet at their home this summer as they had been so frequently involved in discussions with Alastor, Remus and Sirius that they had all the current events squared away. They were far behind the gossip of the prophet and till now it hadn't bothered them. Harry waited patiently and Neville obliged, looking him in the eye now.

"They've been saying you kidnapped her, had an affair, and she escaped on you, they've been saying you're just an attention seeking brat who doesn't know how to shut up when it matters most."

Harry didn't need to ask who 'her' was he knew full well who Neville was talking about and Harry's eyes narrowed. He felt Hermione's hand on his arm and turned to her, eyes blazing in fury. He kidnapped her? Oh the irony was sweet.

"So tell us Harry Potter, are you mad? Are you just an attention seeking little boy? Or is there something actually going on that we need to be aware of, that you need to train us for, because damnit I watched to duel last year, and you're better now, I can feel it in my bones. None of us are going to come out of this alive if we don't band together, if you don't help us."

The common room was deadly silent, here were the words spoken in plain English that many of them had been toying with for weeks: The hinted ultimatum of support or abandonment that Harry teetered on at this knife edge of a crossroads. If he took the wrong path here, if he slipped, it would be his war to fight, his and Hermione's and theirs alone. Harry knew what he had to say.

"Six o'clock tomorrow morning on the Quidditch pitch. Wear clothes you can exercise in."

-:-

The day dawned with a grumble, it was barely light when Harry stepped out onto the pitch, Hermione at his side, the clouds had rolled in overnight and even the dawn itself was struggling to punch through the stormy skies. Scotland was ever a harsh mistress.

Arrayed before them were two dozen Gryffindors, nearly six from each year group evenly fourth through seventh, but some had turned out in greater numbers than others, Fred, George, Alicia and Angelina were the only seventh years, and barring Hermione and Harry only four fifth years remained, but that left nine fourth years, Ginny of course was in Azkaban from that year, and seven sixth years, three muggleborns had lost their lives over the summer from that group.

Harry took a moment to remember those who were no longer with them, Ron, ripped form them so suddenly they barely had time to get their wits about them as he died, dean who had slipped quietly into the night of the World cup, Katie Bell, who had been missing for months was now presumed dead, and Ginny, who had been tossed into insanity by Voldemort's Phantom. He and Hermione had discussed the Diary at great length and had decided that it had been the anchor for Voldemort's spirit when he died; he had probably forged the anchor voluntarily in his quest for immortality. Harry was just happy that he had destroyed the anchor when he had. Judging by what they had learned he had very nearly regained a fully physical form from Ginny's magic.

His thoughts snapped back to the present as Hermione moved forwards separating the students down gender lines. After experiencing first-hand how damaging an overzealous physical routine could be to the female body Hermione was determined to make sure the girls looked after themselves and didn't become fanatical. Harry remembered with a jolt of painful memory how thin Hermione had gotten over the summer before her mother had taken her aside one morning and essentially had an intervention with her daughter. They had worked themselves too hard, even Harry had begun to feel the effects of overworking himself despite his immense physical stamina bolstered by his ability to improve that font of athletic ability with his magic.

They had already been on their run that morning, three laps around the black lake had got them both nicely winded and after a ten minute break to recoup they had made their way out to the Quidditch pitch ready for the first day of training with the Gryffindors. Harry privately hoped he could get the Hufflepuffs and 'Claws in as well but he doubted it, his ties in those houses weren't as strong, though he fully expected Daphne and Tracy to turn up at some point.

He wandered down and greeted the boys, commiserating over the cold morning with them as Hermione finished with her mini-lecture to the girls. As she finished he shuffled backwards a bit to encompass all of them with his words, Hermione tucking in under his arm to ward off the Scottish morning chill.

"This isn't a joke, it's not going to be fun, in fact I think a fair few of you are going to find a few more ways not to like the two of us this morning and in the weeks to come. Remember though, you're not obligated to be here, it's for your own good though so it's worth sticking it out. I remember when I first started running regularly, it was when I was eight and I had to escape my brute of a cousin and his thuggish friends, I learned fast how to pace myself to get distance on those idiots, and that's what we're going to teach you today."

He waved his hand and two lines painted themselves magically in the grass about twenty meters apart. Harry let Hermione speak next.

"This is the most important part of fitness, of fighting really, is knowing how to pace yourself, how to conserve your energy to get the most out of your reserves, magic is no different, but the concept is easier to teach physically. Be warned, the first time you all do this, it's going to suck. It's going to hurt; some of you might throw up. But it's worth it I promise, any other Muggleborns here?"

She scowled when no one raised their hands, another reminder of how bad things had gotten so fast, how could the ministry still be ignoring this?

"Ok I'll have to explain from scratch then. This is what is called a beep drill, the general idea is to last for as long as you can, you'll all line up along the same line facing the other one, when you hear a sharp beeping sound you'll begin moving towards the other line, jogging preferably. When you get there you'll turn around and run back at the sound of the next beep. Traditionally the beeps will speed up and get more difficult to go between, but because few if any of you will have done any real exercise before we're just going to start you off easy with beeps spaced the same amount of time apart. And just so that you don't think we're torturing you Harry and I will run this as well, although only till none of you are remaining, any questions?"

Fred raised his hand and Harry groaned internally, what was the trickster going to come up with now? Curiously though the question was actually serious.

"How does this teach us to pace ourselves exactly? It just sounds like it's going to be horribly boring"

Harry fielded this one

"Because you have a rough idea of how long apart the beeps are going to be, your body will automatically try and make the twenty meter distance in about the time it takes for the next beep to sound, believe it or not it's actually easier to keep a constant running motion going than dashing to each side, stopping, then going back. Once your body is set into a rhythm you'll want to take a note of how it feels to be in a physical rhythm like that and what kind of a state your mind is in. You'll find that you tunnel vision a bit, focusing only on the next beep. Once you've got more practice under your belt we'll start throwing hexes at you and making you block them. After a few weeks you should be at least competent at keeping yourself moving and aware at the same time."

To Harry's astonishment Fred and George both simply nodded before heading over to the line. Most of the students had worn exercise appropriate wear, although Harry already felt sorry for Cormac McLaggen who'd felt he could tough it out in robes.

Harry and Hermione lined up at either end, wanting to be able to observe down the line if anyone in particular as struggling more than normal so they could help them along, or pull them out if they were going to be a danger to others. Harry looked grimly at the other line twenty meters away; he always hated this damn drill. Absently he was aware of Hermione setting up a noisemaker charm in the recesses of their bond, and then, almost without warning, a beep sounded and the whole line surged forwards.

-:-

Never before had Hermione had more appreciation for the gruelling runs she and Harry partook of every morning, even winded after their daily run the two teens were only just breathing heavily when the last of the Gryffindor trainees collapsed to their knees (apparently Fred had much greater physical stamina than George for whatever reason) she watched Harry hoist Neville back to his feet, the poor boy was sweating profusely. Her man's voice rang out sharply over the cold pitch.

"Not bad for a first time, you're all too knackered to do more today, or you should be, same time tomorrow, same place, and Cormac, bring some damn shorts or something you nearly killed yourself today. If you need to have blisters healed and you don't know how come to me or Hermione and we'll give you a hand."

She wove between the Gryffindors who were all in various states of disarray and healed blisters and pulled ligaments wherever she could. She and Harry had quickly learned a host of minor healing charms related to physical overexertion when they had begun seriously exercising, or at least when Hermione had. Harry's feet were like slabs of stone on the bottom of them, covered in callous and scars from where he had run, sometimes barefoot, for kilometres. She hated what had driven him to such lengths but she was proud that it had forged him into a stronger person, not a weaker one.

As the last of the Gryffindors headed back up to the castle she joined Harry as he sat comfortably against the grandstands looking up at the cloudy sky they had been exercising under. She joined him, quietly sitting down in his lap curling up against his ever warm body; seriously he was like a freaking heater. His breath came out in front of him in crystalline plumes of frost and she couldn't help but admire his masculine features from where she was nestled. She fought back a giggle as he suddenly swooped down to tickle her with his stubble; she loved it when he did that. His husky voice shot shivers through her.

"What's on your mind love?"

She looked up at him honestly not knowing how to put her thoughts into words, she wondered at his question too, he could simply have plucked the information from her mind, but then again she appreciated the effort he took to actually talk to her.

"I love you."

The heartfelt admission from her made his lips spread in his easy lopsided smile and he moved close to kiss her sweetly, his whiskers slightly abrasive on her skin.

"I love you too."

The two teens sat there for over an hour as they simply watched the dawn roll in under the cloud layer. The vibrant colours that the clouds were shot through with as the sun began to rise lent a sense of romanticism that was usually lacking in their lives to the scene. Hermione honestly wished they could stay here forever but she knew his legs must be cold against the ground by now and they had a warm shower waiting for them back in their quarters, or maybe...

"C'mon love, let's go inside. I want to take a bath with you and relax in the warmth."

His throaty groan made her grin, yes, this morning had been wonderful.

-:-

The training quickly settled the Gryffindors down and they, much to Harry's approval, got stuck in and gave it their all. Within a week all of them at some time or other had come to him and expressed gratitude at their increased spellcasting ability and raw power, Harry couldn't have been more proud and Hermione right there along with him. The Hufflepuffs joined in towards the end of the first week and never looked back. Harry hoped the Ravenclaws would cotton on, but the house of the studious appeared to be avoiding strenuous activity for the time being.

As Harry had predicted Daphne and Tracy joined the group the day after it's induction and, after a brief argument with Seamus, no one batted an eye at a pair of Slytherins being there, the friendship; they had with Harry, and to a lesser extent Hermione, probably smoothed their way somewhat.

Hermione's birthday was a quiet one, Harry organised a lovely dinner and spent the evening pampering her more then she usually allowed, it had been nice just to let go and relax into his arms and wonderfully talented hands as he massaged scented oils into her aching back and legs from the day's trips around the castle. Later that night they tangled together in a sweet and passionate embrace that saw them up till past midnight and only when Hermione was nearly unconscious with exhaustion did Harry finally let her down from her highs. She slept _excellently_ that night.

Finally on the twenty second Professor Umbridge sent them a note informing them that the Wizengamot had dropped their suite at long last, without need for a hearing, just as they had been promised. Until they read that note and felt the weight of anticipation and dread lift off their shoulders they hadn't known just how heavy it had been weighing on them those past three weeks. Sadly things were not about to get any simpler for them as, mid-way through the week, they were greeted by none other than Alastor in the entrance hall, he took them aside quietly and informed them of over a dozen attacks that had taken place across the country, they had been discovered in a rush that morning as contained magical pulses had alerted the Ministry's sensors.

They looked askance at the retired auror and he obliged them by expanding his statements.

"Sixteen muggle males and sixteen muggle females, all thirty two of them your ages, and couples, were found dead across the country. Carved into their skin were your names over and over, like some kind of sick tattoo. You won't be punished by the law for what happened that night Hermione but the Pureblood agenda has made it quite clear where they stand."

Hermione whimpered and stepped into Harry's embrace as he glared at Alastor with a hard expression, it had taken days for Hermione to overcome her initial burst of guilt at taking those boy's lives, they were going to be in for more long nights ahead. Moody simply shrugged, as If to say: "You needed to know." Harry couldn't disagree with him, though that only made him scowl harder.

"Why thirty two Mad-Eye, do we know?"

Moody shot them a look of sympathy; it _was_ a lot of lives to have, seemingly, on your hands.

"One male and one female for every year of their lives; just be thankful they didn't double that."

Harry nodded stiffly and thanked Alastor for telling them, it didn't really feel like the right thing to do but he had no other words at hand for the situation. He couldn't rightly take his anger out on the old man, not until Christmas anyway when they could duel again.

Carefully he led Hermione over to one of the benches at the sides of the entrance hall and let her sob into his shoulder. It was going to be a long night ahead.

-:-

Neville Longbottom was often thought a dullard, a fool even. Last year he had been enamoured with a madwoman, and frankly it didn't do his case any good. But despite that, despite the dozens of times Snape had made him look the fool, he was perceptive, he was cunning, and above all he was courageous enough to persevere through what had been thrown his way. He remembered arriving at Hogwarts, barely believing in his own magic, overweight, and stumbling; a joke.

Now he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he had grown of late standing now nearly four inches taller than Harry himself. His baby fat had burned away leaving him lightly muscled and fit. His dark brown hair, before no less than a mop, was now longer and, when tucked behind his ears, looked aristocratic. Finally he looked down at the wand held between his fingers, not the ash and dragon heartstring of his father's wand, no this was holly, fourteen inches with unicorn hair. His Gran had consented to buying him his own wand at long last and it felt _perfect_ in his hand.

He glanced out the window to the Quidditch pitch, easily visible from this vantage, and quietly cursed at the day ahead. Training with Potter… Harry… was… Exhausting really, but he could feel the difference already, where before he was a mediocre, bordering on outright bad, wizard his magic was now humming with potential beneath his skin and spells had never come easier to him. He deftly swished his wand twice and like it was shaved by a fine razor the stubble fell from his cheeks, collected itself and sped into the rubbish bin.

Before the holidays he never would have attempted that spell, for fear that he would slit his own throat, but now it came to him naturally, it was like using his own two hands, he knew what they could do, he had learned everything there was to know about them, and now he could use them with dexterity, although they were often used in less dexterous measures on soil and sod in his gardens. Magic and his wand were like that now and he loved every spell he cast.

Turning his attention back to the day ahead he flicked his mind over his classes, Defence first, as it was Monday, that was always interesting, then transfiguration, Conjuration had come to him surprisingly well, not nearly on Harry's level, let alone Hermione's, but it was much easier than wanded magic for whatever reason. He wondered idly whether it was simply because he was so used to failing with his father's wand.

He had a meeting to attend at Gringotts during the lunch hour so he would have to eat a small repast before leaving. Then after lunch Charms; that was becoming more and more difficult as days went by, he just didn't have the kind of mind required for the tasks professor Flitwick had set them and he was sure he would have to flunk the auxiliary course to keep up with his core studies. No matter, he didn't need charms for his future anyway. Government would be simple, it always was, he needed it to maintain his Wizengamot seat as an untitled member but he had been drilled in the knowledge all his life by his Gran and Uncle, the class therefore was a pushover.

It was, all in all, a fairly normal day, it was a shame Herbology wasn't until later in the week, that was where he really excelled. Oh well, better get down to the pitch for warm ups, Harry won't wait for us when he's already done his morning run, and really, why should he? Affirmed of purpose he quietly left the bathroom, his exercise gear already on.

-:-

The workout was gruelling, Harry had a glint in his eye Neville had seen only rarely and Hermione looked subdued, he wondered what had happened. Though he didn't wonder for long as Harry pushed the forty seven students through a harsh workout that left them all panting for breath at the end of it. Everyone had stopped complaining last week when they really started to see the results of Harry's training on their spellcasting and general health, though many wondered when they would start duelling practise, the unofficial true objective of many of the people there.

Neville flopped to the grass, uncomfortably hot in the cool air and gulped in lung-full after lung-full of the brisk chill to try and steady his racing heart. He really, really _hated_ the beeping sound Hermione's wand made, they had progressed on past the, as Harry called it, 'wussy shite' and had advanced onto the beep drill that muggles did where the interval in which they had to run the twenty meter distance got progressively shorter as time went on. It was maddening, running the distance only to get there and then have to turn around again. Just as Harry had said that first morning they ended up with something like tunnel vision where the next beep and the next line were the only things they concentrated on.

They had been told that when a muggle slipped behind and missed a beep they were removed from the drill, Neville wasn't sure if it was as a shaming exercise or for their health, but either way he probably would prefer it over what Harry and Hermione did to those who fell behind. Stinging jinxes and underpowered+ sorcels followed their feet and rear if one of the runners missed a beep on the first offence, second offence onwards was tallied, every time they missed a beep until the drills topped the number on their bracelet would increase in an increment of ten. That's how many combined crunches and push ups they had to do in a seventy thirty split when the drill was ended.

Poor Pavarti had racked up fifteen beeps one day, they had all felt sympathy for his house mate at the time but now with Harry's respect under her belt Neville thought that she had got rather the better end of the deal when, uncomplainingly she had done her crunches and push ups immediately after the drill. It had taken harry and Hermione pushing magical energy into the exhausted girl to stop her from falling unconscious after that, but there she was, running with that self-satisfied smirk in her warm down laps, Neville wondered if it had been planned.

Every Friday instead of doing forty minutes of the drill instead they did a last man standing drill where there was no time limit and they competed to see who could last the longest. Out of mutual agreement Harry and Hermione sat these drills out and planned the further training they would soon begin giving the other students. Fred and George were the general leaders in this event both of them lasting more an hour each but, true to form; Fred kept his lead and managed to beat his twin each day. Now it was possible to tell them apart sometimes as one would shoot annoyed looks at the other, obviously George sore that he couldn't best his brother.

As he rose to his feet and went for his own warm down laps Neville reflected on the reason they were training at all, why he was at least. Voldemort's minions had attempted to attack his home in the summer, they had failed of course but the town had been levelled, old friends and acquaintances, muggles all of them, slain and butchered in an atypically gory event that had plagued him for weeks with nightmares. Eventually his night terrors had calmed and instead had been born in Neville a desire to strike back, to be ready for them when they came again.

He wouldn't fail his Gran, not again.

-:-

A letter from Dan and Emma came via Hedwig for Harry and Hermione later while they were relaxing after their shower, apparently the Muggle Government had finally dropped the various investigations into the 'terror attacks' that had occurred in the summer. Harry felt sick to his stomach at the memory of the killings and felt Hermione's hand on the naked skin of his shoulder. Her breasts pressing against his back in an intimate manner as she wrapped her other arm around his waist and pressed her cheek against his back. She didn't need to say anything; he knew that she too was still shaken over what had happened on the anniversary of the world cup, on the anniversary of their friend's death. Silently he turned and took her into his arms, holding her naked body against him with a tender care that she brought out in him so often.

"I miss him."

The simple statement from her brought a prickle to Harry's eyes, there was no need to ask who she spoke of, for she had plucked the thought of Ron out of his head after all.

"I do too love, I do too. I could use a bit of his humour right about now, or maybe a game of chess to take my mind off everything that's going on. Ugh, it's so frustrating being locked up in this castle with everything that's going on outside. Look here, Mum says they've had word from Remus and Sirius that Dumbledore is finally breaking through to the Wizengamot. Don't know why those berks couldn't just tell us themselves but there you go, never mind Dumbledore himself."

Her hand stroked the skin of his back firmly and he felt her fingers running over his spine like they were memorizing the shape, as if they hadn't already. He felt a pang of regret run through her and prodded at the emotion, asking her silently to elaborate.

"We don't fight."

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her with a bemused expression.

"Why on earth is that a bad thing?"

She smiled against his chest before replying, he could feel her lips curl.

"Because there's no making up afterwards if there's no fight to make up about."

Harry groaned and pressed his forehead into the crook of her neck as she continued.

"It would be such good stress relief to just have a good yell at someone you know? Usually the boyfriend is the target but you're just too damn good at knowing how to make me happy."

He had no idea where this was coming from; it was almost as though she was disappointed about all of this, about their bond. He realized immediately that thinking about such things was futile though because…

"I don't regret anything about us Harry, I love you."

She took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her.

"Just because this relationship is seven shades of unconventional doesn't mean that I don't cherish it. Consider that my parents and I would probably be dead if not for you, you'd be at Privet Drive having the stuffing knocked out of you again and you'd be all alone with no one around to look after you. This." She put her hand on his heart "Is the only thing I need to keep me happy Harry, as long as this keeps beating and you remain you, I'm a happy girl, now kiss me you great lump."

He'd be a fool to refuse her such a delightful request.

-:-

Defence class felt a bit grim as they entered the slightly darkened room and took their usual seats, Harry noted that the blinds had been closed and Professor Umbridge was, for once, standing when they entered. Her back was to the class and she was wearing her long coat, her gaze was seemingly locked on the covered cage that Harry had noticed the first time he had walked into the class. It was rattling.

Harry shot Hermione a look and they reaffirmed their connection, ready to blend at a moment's notice, whatever this was they would have their wits about them. Professor Umbridge, while having so far been an academic teacher, was someone they did not doubt would give hands on instruction. When the last of the six students had been seated (Seamus) Professor Umbridge turned to the class and spoke in her disconcertingly childish tones.

"In our most lessons thus far we have been discussing how to identify and dispatch various forms of lesser undead. Wraiths and Phantoms are far too dangerous to allow into a school, and to banish Ghosts and Poltergeists is rather distasteful. Inferi and skeletons are banned by the ministry and for good reason and Draugr and Mummies are impossible to import. How then do I give you hand on instruction in dealing with minor undead? The answer of course was right under our noses the whole time."

With a snappy wave of her wand the cover over the cage was yanked to the ground and the pale faced young woman within lashed out at the bars with her hands hissing angrily.

"This is a vampire. You know about them, have studied them in depth for several days, they are extraordinarily common and are of course, dead. Their hearts no longer beat and their bodies decay without the infusion of magical energy, or as most vampires choose it, blood. But you've never seen one before, I should hope, and I'll wager you've never killed one; fortunately."

She waved her wand again and five more cages at the back of the class lost their covers.

"I have one for each of you."

-:-

Hermione looked at the young woman in the cage with a hint of trepidation, she could feel Harry's heart thudding in his chest through their link and she knew he too was equal parts inquisitive and nervous. It was hard to apply what she knew to the young woman, no the vampire, in the cage. Academically speaking she knew that vampires were dead, she knew that they carried no knowledge of their former selves and existed purely as predators that hunted on the living, much in the same way that a hawk hunted mice and rabbits.

Visibly though there was nothing to separate this vampire from any human being, she was wearing robes not unlike Hermione's own and had midnight black hair, not unlike Harry's. Her face was a mix of Asian and Caucasian. What allowed her to separate this… vampire, from the young woman she appeared to be were three things, firstly her eyes were a deep vivid red. Her behaviour suggested something inhuman, and her teeth, when she showed them, were needle thin and filled her mouth like those of a shark's. Truly Hermione didn't know in that moment if vampires drank blood or devoured flesh.

As if she had read Hermione's mind Professor Umbridge spoke

"Notice the teeth, they are hollow and are capable of draining the human body of blood in about thirty seconds, two seconds of suction will cause the victim to become light headed, especially if the bite is in the neck. Ten seconds and the victim will suffer motor loss, fifteen seconds and unconsciousness will occur. At that point unless you are rescued by another you are as good as dead.

The sole difference between vampires and ghouls is their diet. Vampires are at least somewhat human, able to blend in with the crowds during the night. Ghouls have given themselves in completely to their predatory side and feast upon the flesh of their victims. The result is a much more debased creature that is somewhat more feral. They are impossible to capture as they begin to eat their own bodies when starved."

Hermione felt in that moment that that information was totally unnecessary.

"You do not have to kill your vampire today, or ever. Those who you do not kill today I will personally dispose of later. This is voluntary, but it is an important learning experience. Do I have a volunteer for the first one?"

She spat the last two words, and Hermione noted a touch of vitriol in her voice, almost as if she had some kind of personal reason for hating the creatures. The class was silent for exactly a second before Harry stood up. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the look on his face; it was determined, and frankly a little sexy. It was an unspoken rule of the wizarding world that witches naturally found power sexy. Hermione couldn't help it, Harry couldn't help it; he was just a powerhouse of magic and personality. No wonder Ginny had been so obsessed with him.

She watched calmly as he walked down the steps of the lecture hall like class and stood before the professor on the stage. He didn't even look at the vampire. A thought struck Hermione

"What laws surround the killing of vampires professor?"

Umbridge looked at her sharply

"There is a hundred galleon bounty on each of their heads placed by the ICW over a hundred years ago."

Hermione was a little stunned, the universal order to slaughter a magical creature, even an undead, wasn't to be lightly thrown about. Hermione couldn't help but wonder where she had procured enough vampires for the whole of fifth year to make a kill.

"Are we going to be getting that money today?"

She glanced at Seamus who had a slightly eager look in his eyes that made Hermione feel faintly sick.

"No, the money will be donated to the school, I didn't want there to be a reward for you killing these creatures today, you're young and the allure of gold is strong, it is very easy to become addicted to earning it in such a fashion and I do not wish that for any of you."

Hermione looked at her Professor with a new level of respect, it was an extremely muggle attitude to care for the wellbeing of students in such a fashion.

"Do you know what you have to do Potter?"

Hermione's eyes snapped to her bond mate as he spoke

"Decapitation, removal of the heart, wooden stake through the heart, exsanguination"

The short list rattled from him so quickly if Hermione hadn't been waiting for it she would have missed it. She reflected on his manner, he was almost business like. Carefully she wandered into Harry's mind and observed the separation he had made from his emotions, nervousness, fear, and anxiety, all of it was pushed aside. She envied him slightly for his mental strength in that moment; she doubted she would be that composed when the time came.

"Quite right Mr Potter, do you have a preferred method?"

"Decapitation ma'am"

"Understood, I'll raise wards around the stage and open the cage, you're completely safe if I think you can't handle it I'll stun the creature and you can either have another shot or I'll deal with it later, understood?"

Harry nodded once and for the first time Hermione felt worried for him, safe, certainly, but what would this do to his already fragile control of his guilt? When it mattered Harry was an iron wall of controlled emotions, but later he could be a wreck.

In the end she needn't have worried, like most things apparently Harry excelled at killing vampires.

-:-

Harry's wand was held in his hand by his side in the usual duelling posture that he adopted, the point slightly off to the side so that he could move into any number of sorcels or spells immediately. He checked his breathing and noted that it was steady, good, his heartbeat was fine, his muscles were relaxed and ready. Carefully he swept his foot in a quarter circle in front of him, looking for irregularities in the woodwork, satisfied he nodded to the Professor, then the front of the cage slammed down.

He barely had time to move as the vampire launched forward, it was nearly faster than he could track, but Harry was a seeker. Keeping an eye on fast moving objects was second nature to him. The vampire moved deceptively gracefully and was near perfectly balanced, Harry wondered blithely if, like Voldemort and Dumbledore, vampires existed in a faster frame of being than everyone else. Fortunately Harry knew from experience that entities that moved faster than normal and reacted quicker than normal often found it difficult to accept that they had screwed up and their minds ignored threats that a normal person would evade.

His wand snapped up and a cutting curse left the tip with blinding speed as he darted to the side. His aim was true and a sickening thud and roll echoed around the room as the vampire's headless body hit the woodwork and its head rolled to a stop. Professor Umbridge vanished the body and the head, to parts unknown, and looked at him keenly before gesturing him back to his seat. When he finally looked up at the class he was amused to see awed expressions on most of their faces, he had apparently made it look easy.

-:-

Hermione gripped Harry's hand tightly for a second as he sat down and, wordlessly, she stood and made her way forwards even as another cage was drawn forwards. Hermione's victim was another female, this one was a tanned brown that Hermione imagine probably hid the unnatural paleness typical of vampires. The fact that the creature's skin was tanned probably meant it was fresh; it hadn't had time to bleach from lack of sun.

Professor Umbridge merely stood aside as Hermione mounted the stage. Hermione found it a bit odd that she hadn't done the same routine with her that she did Harry until she realized that she had in a way, knowing that they were bonded. As a note of politeness Hermione spoke clearly as she ascended the steps.

"Decapitation"

After watching how fast Harry's vampire moved she knew her strategy, bait it straight into her, then lop its head off, nice and simple. She stood her ground and nodded once, her wand already moving.

-:-

Harry watched with pride as Hermione's target rushed forwards only to fall backwards from the force of Hermione's spell, its head clanging noisily against the back of the cage before dropping to the floor.

No words were spoken, as Hermione returned to her seat and, of all people, Pavarti strode forwards next. There was a short discussion where Harry guessed Professor Umbridge was making sure Pavarti knew what she was doing before the girl strode up onto the stage and, to Harry's amusement, conjured a wooden stake from the air into her hand. It was an impressive bit of magic that Harry had to imagine she had practised before.

The third vampire didn't seem at all wary of the obvious trap and Harry had to wonder exactly how old these vampires were; they rushed blindly forwards, had no strategy, didn't talk and their eyes were betraying their hunger. They were acting like they had only been turned hours ago.

Pavarti's target rushed forwards like his brethren had, this one a swarthy male, and Harry watched, somewhat impressed, as Pavarti moved forwards and her hand came up, burying the foot long stake to the hilt under the undead creature's ribs. She moved through the creature, using its momentum to knock it behind her as she ducked under its arm, the move looked suspiciously practised. Umbridge seemed to agree and they had a short conversation before Pavarti returned to her seat. Harry had to admit that in the last few weeks she had grown into a person he could respect.

He wasn't really attracted to her, the bond comfortably prevented that from happening, rather he was impressed with her drive and spirit, she would be one of the people he approached to be squad leaders when they really started training and, after conferring with Hermione quickly, he confirmed that she would be given the chance to become a closer friend, not on the level Fleur had been, other than Hermione he wouldn't ever trust someone that deeply again, rather she might be able to fill Ron's gigantic shoes.

Neville took the stage next and went the route of Harry and Hermione, calmly cutting the creature's head off as it charged forwards, although he used a sword that Harry often saw strapped to his under his robes. It was a typical British weapon, simple and utilitarian and Harry had wondered if it was the Longbottom family weapon or simply Neville's own.

Seamus surprised everyone by blowing a whole in his vampire's chest with a blasting hex, Lavender did the same thing. Although it took her two attempts as the first time the vampire had swayed out of the way of her attack seemingly at random because of its gait. She hadn't been able to get a second shot off before it had leapt at her, before being stunned mid-air and thrown backwards by the Professor.

As they left the class Harry couldn't help but reflect on the lesson, six fresh vampires, one for each of them to kill. Such a simple premise but loaded with so many hidden secrets; like where had the Professor procured such obviously fresh vampires? Where were the ones for the other classes being stored? Did she expect them to do this again? The questions whirled through both teens' heads as they headed to Transfiguration. At least the class was never dull.

-:-

Victoria Umbridge sat heavily at her desk. It was always hard to watch someone take their first kill in cold blood, and to see six youngsters so casually slaughter six mostly defenceless, although still threatening, creatures was a bit boggling. That said she had in fact drilled into them that these creatures were just that, creatures, and it helped that she had got the vampires so fresh, they were more animalistic in that state.

The world tilted as she rested her head against the backrest of her high chair, her boots crossed in front of her and her jacket on the back of her seat. She wondered how she was going to convince them that not all undead were so mindless. It was the most difficult part of this topic, switching from lesser to greater undead. They had all the groundwork and knowledge she could give them in a short time about the lesse3r undead, but greater undead were a completely different ballgame. Ghouls, vampires, wraiths, phantoms, even ghosts and poltergeists, and especially mummies and Draugr, were noticeably unintelligent, only having the least of minds. Though Ghosts and Poltergeists with enough magic around them could subvert this, much like the Hogwarts residents.

Revenants, Litches, Nosferatu and Wights were some of the most cunning, intelligent and magically powerful creatures on the planet. She hoped she could get through to them. Growling under her breath she shuffled some paper around until she found the letter that had been sent to her that week from her department in the ministry. The attacks on the muggles over the summer were confirmed as skeletons, though they were physically altered in some way. Further down she reread the passage that had caused her so much consternation

'The detection cylinders have also given us a positive reading of a Nosferatu on British soil, we will need your expertise to put it down when it shows its face.'

A Nosferatu was the last thing they needed, especially out of the blue like this, usually they heard about one trying to get to Britain via the underground channels that they kept an eye on. But having one suddenly appear out of nowhere was startling, especially as the dozen or so known Nosferatu were still in slumber in various parts of the world, this was a new player to the game, either young, strong and newly created, or old, cunning and powerful enough to stay under the radar for two thousand five hundred years. Throwing the letter down in disgust the Unspeakable stood and walked over to the side room she had asked for with the job, on the tables were the six destroyed vampires, 'killing' them was such an awkward term, did they have life? Did they not have life? Did ending their un-life count as 'killing' them? It was so confusing, and so much easier to refer to them as objects to be destroyed or terminated.

She looked over the six new specimens she had for her dissection table, fresh vampire corpses were hard to come by and these cadavers would be welcome additions to her knowledge. She shrugged on a long white lab coat. The muggles were so ingenious sometimes; creating such a simple garment to protect one's clothes in distasteful situations was a godsend. Approaching the first cadaver, the one Potter had dispatched, dispatched… yes that was a good word for it, she activated a recording rune on the table and began speaking as she examined the body.

"Date; twenty two, nine, nineteen ninety six, time; ten oh five and five seconds, Unspeakable Victoria Umbridge performing autopsy on vampire cadaver code nine, nine, six, two, 'V'. Subject eighty nine thousand and four, specimen code HSWWV0001 is a healthy fresh vampire cadaver of three hours age, date and time of vampirism: twenty two, nine, nineteen ninety six , at oh six forty two, forty four seconds. Date and time of final termination twenty two, nine, nineteen ninety six, at oh nine forty, fifty two seconds. Subject is Caucasian Asian blended female, age unknown estimated late twenties, black hair, height one, five, five centimetres, weight one, six, two pounds else eight, one kilograms. Cause of termination: single cutting curse to the throat, clean decapitation, no fraying, angle parallel with shoulders, no curse burns, terminating party Harry James Potter age fifteen.

Subject exhibited feral tendencies before death, expected and normal, eyes still displaying blood lust even in death, though that should fade within ten to twenty minutes. Hands feet and upper extremities pale even for a vampire and chest is a mottled black, typical signs of blood poisoning in the cadaver, subject was not completely exsanguinated when inflicted with vampirism. Teeth intact numbering…" She cast a spell at this point which displayed a number in the air, "Four hundred and nine, odd number noted, typical with results of fresh vampire before feeding. 'Newbie' tooth still present, attempting to extract… extraction successful tooth one, four millimetres long with no feeding channel, atypical shape but not outside bounds of understood nature."

Her wand came up again and sliced a clean channel from the vampire cadaver's sternum to her groin, with a grimace Victoria spread the creature's skin and flesh giving her access to the creature's innards.

"Internal organs intact and healthy, decomposition has yet to begin although the blood poisoning has ruined the heart lungs and stomach. All three organs are riddled with rot holes. No other items of note, ending recording."

Victoria waved her wand once more and the cadaver was vanished to a transition cube, a tiny glass cube about four centimetres on each edge meant to hold shrunken organic entities for long distance transport. The vampire cadaver hadn't shown any unusual signs except for the remarkably clean decapitation, Potter's spells really were a marvel of control, usually in a first time kill the wound was rather jagged. She hoped the other cadavers would have some answers for her. Answers as to why her glamours had failed, answers as to why her magic, after all this time, was beginning to leave her.

-:-

AN3: Welp, that took a long ass time to write. I actually struggled, it's been difficult to write these early chapters that don't have much going on, hopefully things will get easier with the next chapter, or at least after it, when things start to pick up. Sorry for the wait.

AN4: Review responses

Vegasman: Right? Couldn't let that happen, I like London.

Anotherboarduser: Cheers! Hope you like this one just as much

Pairingmatters: That awkward moment when Snape was worse than Umbridge in canon anyway.

Beyondthesea: Sorry, dumbles will be around a while yet, though I do have an end in store for him… eventually. Also, oh look, undead. *grin*

Shadowdragon: *Blinks* *Blinks* *Blinks* that… that is a long ass review. *Cracks knuckles* *Winces* Let's do this

Fleur is a Nosferatu, Voldemort even said so at the end of the first instalment

Harry has super mixed feelings about Fleur, on the one hand it was just one more person the Potter family thought was a friend who betrayed them, that will stay with him for the rest of his life. On the other hand, unlike Peter, this was very much out of her control… let's just say I've tried to get my head around how I would deal with that and I absolutely can't, never mind the emotional trauma that I didn't experience along with it.

Eh, I get that elemental stuff can be helpful in some situations, like Inferi for example, but why waste time learning fire elemental magic when an incendio works just the same? Idk. Also, yeah they can be a surprise, and I guess that's helpful so yeah okay, maybe they learn some? But it won't be any kind of core study.

No rail guns. *puts foot down* not happening, firstly, where on earth would harry have the concept for such a thing in nineteen ninety six? Secondly the amount of energy required to do something like that is the same as if you would do it with your own body. Harry would kill himself trying to achieve that.

I'm still looking for a good name for Harry's Critters, can someone come up with something? Also I hope my solution to the situation suits, if it doesn't… well tough. As for more advanced creatures like cats etc., maybe, probably, almost certainly, but not yet, he's just learning the trade he isn't ready for something like that, remember that insects are rather easy to imitate because their skeletal (Or I suppose exoskeletal) structure is so simple, mammals are much, much harder, you go ahead and try to make a cat or dog skeleton out of metal and have it articulate properly. Also, amusingly canon already has a precedent for this, decoy detonators, you can expect similar shenanigans.

Also, you're welcome, I do in fact respond to every review that isn't just some idiot saying 'you suck' fortunately I don't get many of those and they're all guest reviews. But do try and be succinct, I don't mind replying to these but they do take up room on the page and not everyone is tolerant of my gigantic author's notes at the bottom of the page.

IcySneasel: Excellent, thanks for your review.

Alright folks that's it for another one. I honestly can't say when the next update will happen I've been feeling less and less inspired to write lately, idk why and it's frustrating because I write for a living as well. So yeah, *fun*, anyhoo thanks for reading and other shenanigans stay tuned for: Chapter Seven: Terror and Wounds, whereupon horrible things start happening with even greater frequency and the small training group becomes a fully-fledged militia, finally we get a deeper insight into Harry's mental and physical state after the abuse that has been heaped on him over the years. See you next time!

LGreymark


	7. Terror and Wounds

AN: *Insert huffy disclaimer here*

AN2: A bit of almost smut after the first few paragraphs, they remain clothed but I thought I'd tell you anyway.

-:-

Chapter Seven: Terror and Wounds

"I'm sorry, _what_?"

The incredulous words had slipped through Harry's lips before he could contain them. Hermione shot him a sympathetic look as he stood in the middle of their room looking down at their evening edition of the prophet in disgust. They had restarted their subscription upon returning to school, and while they hadn't spotted any derogatory articles about Harry or Dumbledore, what they had seen on the eve of Halloween was a bold headline:

"Mass Breakout from Azkaban, a hundred and sixty prisoners freed!"

Harry tossed the paper aside and moved over to their window, breathing heavily through his nose in anger as his lover rose from the bed and moved behind him, rubbing small circles on his back in a soothing manner. She didn't say anything though; speechless she simply conveyed her love and support through their bond, and her equal disgust at the ministry's inability to handle the rapidly escalating situation.

Harry's hands gripped the windowsill and Hermione saw his knuckles go white against the wooden window sill where he was gripping it harshly. Carefully she ran her hands along his arms, making sure not to spook him out of his mood, and gently clasped his hands in hers. Slowly she tugged his hands from the window and folded them over his stomach, hers covering his, and leaned into his back, taking comfort in his body heat.

He leaned back into her; his mind was racing and roaring at the events but slowly his body was relaxing against hers and she smiled against his back. It never failed to hold him, always his body calmed, and then…

Sure enough Harry's racing mind cooled and fell into his typical methodical thought process that comforted her often when she touched his mind. It was something neither of them could have guessed would affect them so strongly before they had started truly opening their minds to each other permanently but the thing that startled them, and scared them equally the most; was the other's thought process and patterns .

Typically Harry's thoughts moved like a broad river, smooth, careful, implacable. He would reach his conclusions with a calm logic that she could fall into like a warm feather bed; it relaxed her, and calmed her immensely. When Harry was agitated though, that calm river became a raging flood, he darted from thought to thought, sometimes latching onto a stay idea like a piece of wood being carried by the torrent and carried it for a time. To be linked to Harry when he was like that was frightening, it was like she was lost in the flood herself and she had to struggle to remain calm in the face of his all-consuming fury.

He was a passionate man, her wizard, and she loved him for it, but sometimes it was scary how powerful and charismatic he was, for should he ask, she would kill, slaughter and maim for his love. Shivering she pressed herself to his back, revelling in the calm demeanour that once again encased Harry's mind. He turned in her arms and she looked up at him, nervous about what she would see in his forest green eyes. His gaze was gentle and she nearly sighed in relief as he leaned down to press his lips sweetly to hers.

The emotions that came from him then nearly overwhelmed her, love, lust, passion, tenderness, and something indefinite that she associated with a romantic mood. Now his thoughts were again like a flood, but this time the emotions weren't terrifying, they were erotic and sensual and she had a hard time keeping her wits about her as his well-practised hands began roaming over her back, pressing against the places she loved most

"Harry love, you know I like that but… ungh stop, please? I don't think this is really the time."

Her slightly breathless words made him chuckle against her throat where his mouth rested and he backed away slowly and tucked himself unto the window sill, understanding immediately she let him tug her up onto his lap where she was quite content to rest her back against his familiar chest.

"I'm so frustrated with all of this Hermione."

The unexpected words from Harry took Hermione aback slightly. They must have been a subconscious thought of his that he voiced aloud only accidentally, for she did not see them in his surface thoughts. Her hand went behind her and went unerringly to his cheek where she cupped his stubble covered jaw fondly, caressing it as was her want.

"I know love, Fudge is being obtuse, and I hope this will convince him to listen to Dumbledore for once."

Nothing more was said aloud, they shared several small thoughts between themselves deliberately, but mostly just enjoyed the mingling of their minds and mental patterns. Hermione often visualised their mental thoughts mixing in such a way as two dyes; one oil based the other water based, mixing in a basin, unable to truly become one, but mixed so completely that their colour blended regardless. Slowly they calmed and blended truly with one another, until one their identities remained merged within the collective of their thoughts. It was barely a step away from their complete bond where they lost all sense of self, and only became 'Them'.

Eventually he rose from their seat; his arms around her holding her close in the typical bridal style as he moved to their bed and laid her down upon it. She felt her breath catch in her throat at his gaze, it was deep and almost hypnotic with the passion contained therein. She let herself sprawl, her arms above her head and her knees slightly bent. She knew Harry loved to see her like this, relaxed and totally without her usual collected posture. The look of lust in his eyes rewarded her handsomely and she brought one finger forward, crooking it in a classic 'come hither' gesture. He did not disappoint her as he moved down onto the bed himself covering her perfectly with his body and pressing his lips to hers with a firm passionate kiss.

She loved having him atop her like this, even fully clothed it was intimate and wondrous to her as his warm weight covered her like a duvet in winter, providing comfort that she often associated with a good book in her bed on a frigid day. Or their favourite chairs in front of the fireplace in Oxford. His hands moved to her hips in a well-practised motion and Hermione had to struggle to remember to breathe. It was simply _unfair_ how good he was at touching her. She knew that if they were standing his hands would have been at the small of her back, just where she liked them.

Her own hands moved of their own accord, one went to his shoulders, doing its best to wrap around his back, the other fisted in his hair drawing a moan from him even as his lips assaulted her own in their own pleasurable way. She hoped they always kissed this passionately, they hadn't even progressed to tongue and already her panties were soaked through at the raw passion coming from her wizard. She gasped as his lips moved to her throat where he bit down hungrily, as if to feed from her jugular.

It was all she could do not to let out a plaintive wail as he thrust against her with his hips, she desperately wanted to feel him inside her, but she knew it was too soon, far too soon. They weren't even legal for one thing, which despite everything else she wanted to conform to. More important was the knowledge that both of them in their calm, unaffected state, wanted to wait for at least another year. They were extremely comfortable with one another but both wanted to take this slow, there was no point rushing the last step of their physical relationship when they had their entire lives to be with one another.

So it was with regret burdening her heart that she moved her hands to his hips and stilled them with a firm grip. Harry's lips at her throat stopped and she felt him panting against her tender skin, she couldn't help the shiver that ran through her at the feeling. After a moment a mental apology washed through their minds, she didn't know who it originated from but she dismissed it anyway, preferring to roll them onto their sides and move her hands to Harry's back and hair where she could stroke him. He grunted in appreciation against her neck and she smiled warmly, glad that he was in such control of himself that he could stop at such short notice and simply return to their sweet loving mood.

Hermione loved this feeling, having him snuggled up against her with his arms around her waist and his head against her neck. Others might think that it was a distinctly feminine pose but between them they understood; there were rarely gender defined roles in their relationship, Harry took comfort from her as much as she took from him, and she comforted him just as he comforted her. In this case she knew that he needed to be held by her, intimately but not sexually, so she did, she held him without question as his breathing slowly calmed against her skin.

Eventually he moved his head back from her neck and offered up his gaze for hers to meet, the gratitude there unmistakable and she happily moved forwards and mirrored their earlier pose by snuggling into his neck, her arms moving lower on his body and his higher until they were in the gender typical snuggling pose. Their minds slowly disentangled and, after some time, she could feel a slight hesitation from him. Deciding to take the initiative she spoke first, her words muffled against his skin.

"What's on your mind sweetheart?"

She could almost feel his smile as affection washed across their bond and she grinned against his neck. He didn't immediately speak but rather buried his nose in her hair and breathed deep. She never understood his fascination with it, but she appreciated the unspoken compliment nonetheless. When at last he did speak his words too were muffled, but by hair rather than skin.

"We nearly lost control then."

His tone was odd, as if it was more of a question than a statement, and more that he was aiming at himself rather than her. She understood.

"I don't blame you sweetheart, we are teenagers after all, and you are of course a man."

Her smile broadened at his rueful chuckle.

"But you did back off when I asked you to, without me even having to speak, and that means everything to me, that you respect me enough to take my wishes into account, and that you love me and desire me enough to nearly lose control in the first place. All of that is wonderful Harry."

The tense muscles in his abdomen relaxed noticeably at her words, she knew he doubted himself and if the worst she had to deal with in their relationship was his self-deprecating nature then she would happily make allowances for him, just as he made allowances for her own insecurities, of which there were many.

"I don't want to hurt you Hermione."

Her smile became somewhat tender as she pulled back to look back into his eyes to fully get the message across.

"I trust you never will, even when you yourself aren't sure."

When they finally fell asleep that night, wrapped in each other's arms, they felt a touch more confident about themselves, and their ability to hold to their intentions of waiting. Hermione in particular was exceptionally happy with how the evening had ended, never mind the fact that he ended up giving her a delicious orgasm anyway, his fingers and tongue would do for the time being, but she really couldn't wait to feel his gorgeous cock deep inside her.

"Sleep Hermione, or I'll end up doing things to you we're not ready for with comments like that."

Her cheeks flamed crimson at Harry's comment, their minds merged completely while they slept and in these twilight moments before sleep he could easily glean her thoughts, still blushing she squeezed his bum before letting herself fall asleep.

-:-

Elsewhere in the castle while two teenagers were having a lust fuelled tryst a stern faced professor was sitting at her desk writing her final notes on the autopsy she had performed on the six vampire corpses. Only one had shown anything of real merit; that being the mutation of the creatures' teeth, that being that they were incredibly brittle and she placed them aside for grinding into power, they might make a potent potion ingredient.

When her quill stopped moving and she set it back in its stand she sat back from the desk with a slight huff. Her experiment had been fruitless; compelling the captured vampire to turn the six others hadn't yielded any magical anomalies outside of normal deviation. She had hoped that her ailing magic would have transferred into the creatures through the compulsion like it had in the past. If anything the fact that it hadn't was mere proof that her magic was in fact waning.

A soft curse in a forgotten language slipped from her tongue; tens of thousands of experiments, none yielding any results. She was beginning to lose hope that she would ever get an answer to her plight. She gripped her wand in one hand and twisted it in place, pointing towards the ceiling, about a quarter turn and muttered a single syllable in a strange archaic language lost to time. A line of faintly glowing runes appeared above her wand in a classic arithmantic formula. Another soft curse fell from her lips.

It was as she had suspected, her magical core had finally dipped below the necessary levels for high level glamours, it had taken nearly two and a half thousand years but her magic was finally departing this plane for good. It had been slowly waning for her entire time in existence, only now however had it really become apparent. She would need to recast the ritual, but finding a mortal of appropriate strength was difficult at best, impossible at worst. Not since Merlin had a wizard consented to aiding her in her plight.

She thought back to her true origins in middle Europe some three thousand years ago, mortals aged slower then and she had been a bit over four hundred and eighty when her first body had died. This one had lasted much better, though she would have initially preferred to pass on, now that she had been around for so long she was reluctant to allow herself to fade, if only from stubbornness.

Groaning slightly she rested back in her chair and took her usual potions and considered her options. Harry Potter was the obvious choice, he was powerful, more so than any wizard she had met for over a hundred years. Dumbledore would have been a good choice but his magic was almost as feeble as hers in his age. The spells he had cast upon himself to battle Riddle weren't helping matters.

The issue with using Potter was his soul bond. Typically she would avoid using a soul bonded wizard for the ritual as the ramifications could be severe for his bonded mate, but she had little option now. The other issue was Riddle himself; she was aware of the prophecy, and of its veracity, she had learned to respect prophets in her time on Earth. Whether they realized it or not they usually knew what they were talking about.

She grunted as she stood, her hand gesturing and her coat whipped from the chair to adorn her slight frame. Her hands slipping easily through the sleeves until it was comfortably situated on her torso and hanging from her shoulders neatly, her hat followed afterwards on its own as she reached the door. She needed to take a walk to consider that she was probably damning the wizarding world to several decades with the dark wizard known as Tom Riddle.

-:-

It was dark the next morning when Harry awoke with a start, normally he was gentle in his awakening, rising blearily to consciousness and taking in the mental landscape of his and Hermione's minds before choosing to wake completely. But today was different, he was awake almost instantly and there was obvious reason why, someone was knocking on their door.

Grumbling slightly he disentangled himself from his sleeping, naked lover and moved to the door, a robe moving from the floor to adorn his own nude body with a wandless motion from both hands, and as he walked candles flickered to life in their holders. His wandless magic had become almost second nature now, and he really had to stop himself from using it in public, both he and Hermione had agreed not to let slip about his secret weapon.

Carefully closing the door to their bedroom he crossed the common room steadily whilst tying the cords on his robe, sealing it shut, Hermione would have been most put out if he had accidentally given a peep show to one of the many girls who still lusted after the boy who lived.

When at last he reached the door and opened it, it was to the strange sight of an anxious professor Dumbledore standing in the corridor. Knocking and waiting in such a manner really didn't seem like the man's style. But nevertheless there he was, Harry did however note the look of relief on the aging headmaster's face at the sight of Harry, though it was quickly masked.

"May I come in Harry?"

He nodded numbly and invited the man into the sitting room of what was essentially his and Hermione's apartment. He was thankful he and Hermione had tidied their books and homework from the tables the night before they had retired to their room. The two men, one older, one younger, sat opposite each other on a pair of loveseats around the low sitting table. Harry felt that he should explain Hermione's absence but was beaten to the punch by Dumbledore's own declaration.

"The minister finally consented to making a public statement about the return of Voldemort last night."

Harry couldn't help but be pleased by the news, finally something would be done, he sensed however that that was not the only reason Albus had visited.

"As an additional note to this I feel I should inform you that a number of families were attacked last night. Not least of which being the Bones, Abbot, McMillan, Davis and Greengrass families. There were no survivors, though Amelia Bones was at her office in the ministry at the time and escaped being attacked."

Harry felt like Dumbledore had cast a punching hex at his gut, he very nearly keeled forwards as the weight of what the man had said came crashing down.

"How many"

Albus shot him a sympathetic look, but Harry had asked for this, full disclosure, full information.

"Eleven dead from those families, although including others and the dead Aurors who were at Azkaban the death toll is closer to fifty."

It was a near thing; he barely managed to avoid vomiting all over his headmaster's elegant shoes. He felt a slim hand on his back and leaned into the touch, aware that Hermione had joined the conversation, the tremble in her hand suggested that most of his weak stomach had probably come from her side of the bond, he usually had quite a strong constitution, but Hermione however had been cursed with her father's weak stomach.

"I understand that you have been teaching the children of those families attacked last night in your club."

Harry nodded numbly and the headmaster continued

"I would ask that you give them what support you can, both of you, you are close to this war and uniquely suited to supporting those bereft because of the conflict. I would not usually ask this of you but I fear that more responsibilities will be coming your way shortly regardless. Namely I'm going to ask you to accelerate the curriculum that you are teaching your peers, I believe anyone who is willing to learn from you needs to be given the full scope of your aid in this matter. Lastly I'm afraid that Prefect duties are going to become rather more demanding as a result of these attacks, I'm offering you both the chance to back out of the post now before I must ask you both to commit to it for the long haul. I understand that you both have a lot on your plate and it pains me to ask this of the both of you, especially when you are both so young, but you have shown to be excellent leaders of your peers and, frankly, the best pair of prefects for many, many years."

Harry didn't know what to say, Albus had just thrown more responsibilities at them than Harry had ever had before, he had a feeling Quidditch was going to become a thing of the past, he hadn't been much focused on the team this year and he resolved to hand in his resignation to Angelina, she'd be pissed, but she'd also get over it.

It struck him that there was no question in his mind, or Hermione's for that matter after a brief conference, they would do this, not because it was being asked of them by the headmaster, but because it was the right thing to do.

"Understood sir, we'll do our best to live up to the demands upon us, will the new prefect duties be posted or informed through a meeting?"

Dumbledore shot them both a careful, calculating look before speaking softly, plainly aware of how much he was asking of them.

"Likely through a meeting, the main student body will be unaware of your additional workload, I have discussed this with the heads of house and they agree that causing additional panic is unnecessary."

Harry nodded once before standing and offering his hand to the headmaster, recognising that what the older man had to say had been said. In a strange moment of equality Harry's mentor shook his hand with a firm business-like grip before departing with a soft farewell. When the door to their apartment swung closed Harry sunk down into the loveseat and felt Hermione sit upon his lap, felt because his eyes were closed, a single tear leaking from the corner of each.

Her hands cradled his head against her bosom and he allowed himself to grieve for the fallen, silently weeping in her arms for those who had died needlessly in the face of the madman's ire. Slowly he came back to himself and Hermione's lips pressed to his softly, as if to reassure him that she was still there, ready to support him in his tasks.

He felt a rush of affection for her, despite everything, and through everything, she was there for him, not just as his lover, or soul mate, but as his best friend and confidant, as his anchor to reality when sometimes he wished he could just be as whimsical as Luna Lovegood to escape all the pain. She whispered comforting words to him as he silently thanked every deity for her presence in his life.

-:-

Hermione was heartbroken, so many needless deaths, pointless, senseless violent deaths. As she cradled Harry's head against her chest and held him through his grief she let her own emotions flow into Harry's allowing her own pain to be washed away in the flood of his care for people he had never met. She let him take it from her, aware that he was doing far more for her than she was for him in these moments as he purged her of her grief, taking it upon himself unconsciously, unthinkingly, helping her because it was natural for him to do so.

The grief would become deep seated for her, just as it would for him, but he took away her immediate shock and pain and she loved him for it, loved him for protecting her from even the smallest of emotional suffering wherever he could. Carefully she took back some of that grief, bit by bit she snatched pieces of it from the raging flood of Harry's mind and allowed herself to feel that pain, to appreciate what had happened to those wonderful faceless people who had been lost to the world.

She didn't want to be emotionless, even though she respected and appreciated what Harry was doing for her she needed to feel the pain, to take it into her and let it wash away on its own terms so that she could grow from the experience, so that she could handle it if ever she needed to. Eventually when Harry was calm she curled up in his lap against his chest and fell back to sleep. It was an hour before they usually woke and she was still bone tired. Dumbledore must have made his visit to their quarters his first task of the morning as, thought the window she could see, the sun had not even risen.

The last thing she remembered before the realm of Morpheus claimed her once more was Harry's strong arms carrying her back to bed, her head cradled lovingly against his chest.

-:-

There was a palpable sense of dread in the castle that day as the school went about its business. Students moved quickly from class to class, hurrying in the halls as if their lives were threatened by standing in place or walking too slowly. As she and Harry wended their way between the throngs of hurrying students she reflected back on their morning meeting with what was quickly being known as 'The Regiment'.

-:-

The wind whipped across the Quidditch pitch with force, kicking up fallen leaves and twigs and throwing them about in the air like a strange ballet. In the middle of the pitch Harry stood with his hands behind his back and his longer than normal hair whipping about his face, kept free of his eyes with a charm. Hermione couldn't help but think that he looked somewhat imposing, his cloak flapping in the frigid air and his posture stiff. She could feel his inner anguish at what had happened the day before and that he was doing his best to project a strong image for the rest of the group, me might have overdone it a touch.

"Yesterday afternoon the forces of Tom Riddle slaughtered two score and more people, parents of our classmates, families, those dear to us. From what I understand the kills were made with a brutality atypical to the Death Eater norm. While many of them are rapists the typical Death Eater simply seeks to kill with the killing curse, neat, swift efficient."

Hermione scanned his thoughts making sure he was going in the right direction with this little speech that his sonorous enchanted voice was projecting over the howling wind. Satisfied she watched as he locked eyes with a half dozen people in the crowd around them. She didn't need to glance that way to know who.

"I don't tell you this to dishearten you, or to prey upon your grief, and I'm sorry if this is distressing, but he will not stop."

Harry let that statement hang for a moment.

"He struck last night so that on this day, the anniversary of his first defeat, he would let Britain know that he isn't out for the count. He'll strike again at Christmas, when we're all at home; those of us who have homes."

He took a deep breath and Hermione knew he was battling with the urge to go down into the crowd and embrace those who had lost family members the night previous, she knew he wouldn't be able to hold on for long.

"We have to be ready, _you_ have to be ready, you have to be safe and whole at the end of the holidays so that you can continue to live, continue to thrive, and learn and grow. So that's what we're going to learn today, we're going to learn to survive because I'll be damned if another one of my friends loses their family."

An undignified sob was heard from the back row and Harry seemed to snap slightly inside, he strode forwards, the crowd parting before him as he enclosed Tracy Davis in a hug as her knees gave out and she slumped to the ground, held up only by Hermione's bond mate's embrace. Her heart went out to the girl, not everyone had their parents safe behind a Fidelius charm, let alone a Fidelius charm tied to the most loyal and steadfast person Hermione was ever likely to meet.

The crowd was silent save for a small knot of people who converged on Harry, children of victims all they set aside house differences and partook of the comfort offered by the Boy Who Lived. The rest of the group stood in respectful silence until Harry broke up the impromptu hug a moment later and stood tall, bringing Tracy with him who was still sobbing against his chest, with one of his arms wrapped comfortingly around her shoulders.

"Pair off; we're going to practise dodging first."

It was a mark of how much the group respected Hermione's wizard that no questions were asked, they simply paired off and, without needing to be asked, began a dodging drill while Harry did his best to comfort Tracy.

That had been the most unexpected friendship, and Hermione figured that if she wasn't in the picture Harry might have fallen for one of the two Slytherin witches, never mind Fleur or any of the other girls who had noticed Harry's charm. She didn't doubt for a second that he could love any of them, his heart was big enough for everyone once you got through his outer shell of defensive shyness. She was eternally thankful she had claimed him first, as he made her infinitely happy.

Walking forwards she wrapped the two in a hug, looking up she spotted Daphne off to one side, looking slightly lost but also apparently determined not to cry. Wordlessly Hermione gestured the bereft girl to the group and the Slytherin girl joined her housemate and the two Gryffindors in the most unlikely embrace Hogwarts had seen for many years.

-:-

They had gone over a lot that morning, Harry had taken names and sent a letter to the ministry asking for permission and aid to teach apparition to the group for emergency's sake, they had no idea what the response would be but, within Hogwarts, there was nothing to stop them practising anyway, so they did. Never mind the surprise the group had expressed when they learned Harry _could_ apparate, let alone be confident enough to teach the skill to others, It was a good thing Harry had spoken to Dumbledore that morning, and that no one outside the school knew that Hogwarts' anti apparition wards had been down over the Quidditch pitch for nearly an hour that morning.

Before lunch they had been heading to the great hall from their late morning class and had stumbled across Susan Bones about to go wand to wand with a Slytherin sixth year who had apparently thought it funny to taunt the Bones scion that her parents were finally living up to the family name. Harry had been in that terrifying state where he was little more than a wand and a lump of morals. Hermione had needed to physically restrain him from doing more than a warning shot which the Slytherin had thankfully heeded and fled from.

Immediately Susan had launched herself into Harry's arms, not crying but not far from it either, her hands fisted in the front of his robes and pounding lightly against his chest in her grief. Hermione did not begrudge Susan the chance to use Harry as an emotional sump, she knew her man was happy to help the bereft girl and he was so damn _good_ at extracting people's grief from them. The Hufflepuff girl walked away a few minutes later much more calm with a great deal of her pain now sheltered behind Harry's eyes.

She wasn't quite sure how he did it, with her he utilised their bond to take her pain and grief, he didn't have that with Susan. But Harry's magic was powerful and attuned to his will, she was sure that if he had wanted to take the emotional pain from everyone in the school then he could have.

In a different time maybe she would have protested, demanded that he look after himself better, but she knew Harry better than that, it would eat at him for months if he hadn't taken Susan's pain from her. She would cradle him in her arms again tonight, and let him exercise the pain he had taken from Susan, Tracy, Daphne, Ernie, and Hannah. Her man was determined to help everyone he could, and she'd be damned if she wasn't at his side, supporting him through it all. He needed her for this, just as she needed him to be strong for her, to be a powerful rock of indomitable energy and will that would refuse to be bowed by Riddle. He needed her support, she needed him to live and thrive; Hermione figured she had the better end of the deal somehow.

-:-

Their classes were odd, as if the teachers were sidestepping dealing with the events completely. She had expected some deviation from routine, some acknowledgement of what had happened, but there was nothing.

She understood why of course, a sense of normality was excellent for those suffering from grief; it let them mitigate their pain with routine and familiar setting. But it seemed so surreal, not twelve hours ago fifty people lost their lives, but nothing had changed. Flitwick still squeaked, McGonagall still frowned, Snape still sneered, and Umbridge had that face of incredible control that Hermione couldn't pierce with her strongest scrutiny.

The castle was different though, it seemed to have retreated in upon itself, the portraits were subdued, the staircases didn't shift nearly so frequently and the trick walls around the place we instead simple stone brick. Hermione didn't really know what to make of it; it felt like the castle had drawn breath, holding itself in check for a time before it unleashed its full potential. The only thing Harry had suggested that could maybe fill the blank was that Dumbledore had drawn the magic of the castle much tighter around the grounds and had strengthened the wards greatly, which would remove some of the castle's natural boisterousness.

Hermione couldn't think as to what the headmaster was waiting for though, if anything. It was unsettling and the whole day she felt like looking over her shoulder for someone watching her with veiled eyes.

-:-

Never before had a Hogwarts dinner been more subdued, not even last year after Cedric's death had the great hall been so quiet. Eighteen Students had lost their parents, Six staff members had lost close family, Professor Sinistra had even lost her husband and was noticeably stricken. Hermione was amazed the woman even made it to classes, let alone dinner. She knew that had Harry been taken from her, bond or not, she would have been comatose with shock and grief.

During the Lunch period where Harry had been asked for help by some of the third year boys in Gryffindor Hermione had sought out Daphne and Tracy for a conference. The three girls were not strangers and Hermione was able to find them in their usual spot in the Library. Apparently, as the girls had no books in front of them, she had been expected. Carefully sitting down and looking around she reached across the table and took a hand of each of the girls in her own.

"I can trust you two can't I?"

The statement was laden with hidden meaning, all of which the two witches before her seemed to grasp. This was not about Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalries or the worry of a friend to a friend. Hermione knew exactly how the girls felt about Harry and, though he was well and truly taken, she would never say no to an extra pair of eyes keeping an eye out on him.

The two girls just nodded and Hermione looked them both in the eyes hard before sagging slightly and speaking.

"Harry's taking this hard, being the man he is he's taken blame for this because of what Riddle did to his parents, he sees this not as the anniversary of Voldemort's defeat, but of Lily and James' deaths, Just as there were attacks over the summer holidays on the anniversary of Ron's death Harry is certain that the attacks last night were Riddle's sick memorial to Harry's parents. Or perhaps reminder is more accurate.

Either way he's not as observant as normal and I'm afraid that one of your darker housemates will slip through the net and hit him with something before he responds in time. I'm not nearly as fast as he is and I could still miss something. I need you two to at least warn us if someone is plotting something.

Please."

Tracy took her hand in both of her own and Hermione felt a rush of affection for the normally subdued girl.

"Of course, I don't think it's any secret that I've got the biggest crush on him. I think it's probably more than that but he is somewhat off the market isn't he? I can't speak for Daph' but I'll do my best to keep him safe, you too for that matter, he'd be crushed if you were hurt."

Hermione felt a slight tug from her other hand and turned to Daphne before she could respond to Tracy's heartfelt declaration, the much cooler Slytherin girl let out a snort of something approaching derision

"Even on his worst day Harry Potter could wipe the floor with anyone in our house, the head of it included. But I understand your concern Hermione, I to will keep an eye out."

So began the strangest alliance Hermione would ever be a part of.

-:-

Harry deeply enjoyed tutoring, he didn't know why, maybe it was the ability to impart his knowledge to others, maybe it was rubbing off from his time teaching the regiment, and maybe he just spent too much time in Hermione's head.

Whatever the reason the four third years left Harry's corner of the common room looking much more confident about their transfiguration assignments and Harry was feeling good about what he had done for them. He was vaguely aware of Hermione talking to Tracy and Daphne in the back of his head but let it go, judging by her weak mental barrier between them she wanted some privacy and he was happy to give her whatever she wanted.

He had always respected her mental barriers, she couldn't ever really make them very strong for whatever reason but Harry respected what they symbolized nevertheless. Rarely was it that Hermione ever barred him from her mind these days but she always had good reason for doing so, there was no reason to doubt her now.

-:-

Late that night as Harry was sleeping, exhausted from his emotional purging Hermione held him in her arms, sitting up against the headboard of their bed and wondered what her man would be like when the world wasn't under threat, when he could relax and just be Harry. Would he be obsessively tidy? Would he insist on cooking three meals a day for her? She was well aware of his intention to stay at home and tinker for the rest of his life after school, she didn't mind really, he had earned a rest and she would be happy knowing their children would have him around to look after them.

That sent a happy flutter through her, children, with Harry. She had supressed the thought many times over the last two years, it had always seemed too soon to be thinking about it. But here and now, with Harry cradled in her arms and the night open to her scrutiny she delved into the topic, meandering through her thoughts of Green eyed messy haired, be it black or brown, little boys and girls. Sleeping infants cradled in their father's arms, or squealing toddlers riding on Harry's shoulders.

She couldn't help but press a hand to her stomach, wondering what it would feel like one day to have their child within her. A single tear of happiness slipped down her cheek as she relished the thought of what Harry would be like as a father, he couldn't not be amazing at it, he was a natural leader, talented with dealing with emotions, and he had an inner child streak that ran as broad as the river Thames. A wry grin alit on her face as she expanded the fantasy, drawing in her own parents happily cooing over their grandchildren, or Sirius looking disproportionally chuffed as a pair of her kids clambered over his animagus form.

She felt a pang of regret that Lily and James would never know her, would never know their grandchildren, or even great grandchildren. Hermione fully intended to have a career, maybe in the ministry after the war, maybe a nice cosy bookshop, it didn't matter to her really as long as she had something to keep her active, but she wouldn't deny herself or Harry a family, not when it was their single most agreed on wish. It was never spoken about, Harry still had too many fears about not surviving the war with the prophecy hanging over his head, but it was there nonetheless.

For the first time Hermione toyed with the idea of going all the way, giving her virginity to Harry and laying with him in passion, and later, giving him a child before the war really got into swing; giving him a family to fight for, to strive to protect, to live for, and to come home to. A tear split her cheek with its trail, making her face symmetrical, those this tear was of anguish, not happiness. She hoped she would be enough for him, she hoped their bond, her love, their future, would be enough for him to come home to.

She was startled by Harry's lips pressing to her throat; she hadn't even noticed him awaken. She drew back slightly to look down at him properly and noted the stern cant to his gaze; it was tempered by something much softer though.

"Don't doubt your power over me love. This war won't keep me from coming home to you. It won't keep me from fathering your children one day either."

She stroked his cheek with one finger, before leaning forward to kiss him, their legs shifting against each other as they kissed. She had no words for him, no thoughts or observations, statements or provisos, here he was, pledging himself to her, she could do nothing less than accept him for all that he was, and that was more than she could ever ask for, hope for, or comprehend. And as she finally fell asleep her mind allowed her to let go of her fear, to have confidence in him, in them, in their love.

The terror she had been feeling was swept away, and in its place was only love. Love and a grim determination that would one day level an entire legal system, and bring about a new one in its place.

-:-

Deep in the moors of Northern Scotland near the coast a strange echoing cry swamped the misty hills with its chilling resonance. The lips that that cry had been torn from were speckled with small black dots, they were firm, almost cartilage, and were surrounded by a face of alien proportions. Inside that mouth were concentric rings of bony plates, built for crushing and grinding, and a maw that stretched in terrifying fashion as the aquatic creature burst out of the water at the shoreline, sprinting up the beach where a young woman stood against the wind.

The creature wasn't alone, dozens of its kin followed behind with a terrifying speed that few mortal creatures could match. Their limbs were multi jointed and their grasping hands had far too many fingers, nearly a dozen surrounding each palm. They were meant to grip things and not let go, each finger ended in a hooked talon clearly meant to cling to flesh and bone.

Their torsos were naked, but not in any way aesthetically pleasing, most were covered in aquatic plants that grew from their skin, weeds and kelp as well as other more sinister magical plants that snapped and grasped with tendrils in the cool night air. Frankly the creatures were nightmarish and any unprepared human would have soiled themselves at the sight. But the young woman was not unprepared, nor was she human, never in her life, or unlife, had she been human, and she certainly didn't soil herself.

The first creature died messily, its head arcing through the air on a cerulean fountain of ichor. Its kin died in equal bloodshed as the young woman moved from creature to creature, dismembering them with sickening snaps and the wet sucking sound of tearing flesh. Soon forty cadavers were on the shoreline of Scotland, forty kelpies slaughtered for sport, for training.

In the darkness Epine's heart stirred, not with joy, or disgust, not even with satisfaction, her emotions were not anxiety or nervousness, and were far from elation or lust; rather the young woman felt trepidation, the thought in the back of her mind that this was somehow wrong. But the soft spoken man with the beautiful black hair had told her it was right, gloriously sensually _right_, and he had been most enthusiastic with his praise.

In the darkness of an encroaching Hebrides storm the undead creature smiled, her teeth meeting in a horrific visage fuel for the nightmares of small children the world over. Her razor sharp and needle thin teeth met together perfectly and a rich rumbling purr rolled from her throat even as the blue ichor of her prey stained her chin and throat with its passage from her maw. The reason for her glee was the object of her devotions walking down the beach towards her, a long branch from some forgotten tree held in his hand as he idly flicked shells aside from his path.

She swiftly knelt as he approached her ethereally beautiful body bowing in submission. It was not sexual, she barely knew what the word meant but this man, this _god,_ was everything to her. A sibilant whisper rose from her plump lips as he approached

"_Master"_

The word was spoken with such reverence that even to her own ears it sounded pathetic, weak. She yearned to be stronger, for him. His soft rich tones, accented strangely reached her ears.

"You've done well my child. They were no real challenge for you were they?"

"_No Master"_

He stopped in front of her, his wand held in one hand, hers in his other. She knew instinctually that it was hers; she could feel it in the very core of her being. She knew what it was of course she had seen her master use something similar for months now. Something in her hungered for that piece of wood and magic; it yearned desperately to hold it again, to claim it as her own. But the desire was hollow, as if futile or ill driven. She knew the item would avail her not. She had no spark within her to drive the tool.

"Bring them back."

The command was simple, and one that she had heard before, she felt bad when she did this, dirty even. _He_ told her to do it, so of course, she did.

-:-

It did not take long for the undead creature Valmortis had taken under his wing to infect the two score kelpies with her blood. It was an experiment of sorts; he had been taking her up and down the country, experimenting with different magical creatures to discover which ones responded best to Undeath. Centaurs, while difficult to acquire, had been their best results so far, but he hoped this would be another breakthrough.

Epine, as he had so fittingly named his tool for she would ever be a thorn in the side of the light, returned to his feet and knelt in her familiar devoted pose. It sickened him slightly to treat her so, he was not a man inclined to such base pleasures of the flesh such as her posture suggested, he much rather preferred to tinker with magic than spend time rutting like an animal. Necromancy was his favourite pastime.

He felt a flash of memory rush through him; a rain swept courtyard, an imposing tower, a terrible battle, and pain, real emotional pain. It was gone as quickly as it arrived and the necromancer showed no outward signs of his affliction, it would not be wise for Epine to know he was hurt. He had not be injured in front of her before and he intended to keep it that way, she had to see him as immortal, something other, and greater, than human, for their strange teacher/student relationship to work.

For Epine was not a mortal, she would outlive him by a billion years, her hair would be just as lustrous as it was now when the sun finally gave its last gasp and the world exploded around them. She would endure, more fully than he ever could, he had to prepare her to live that unlife, to take the world in her beautiful hands and remake it in her image. She was his daughter in reality, as he had long ago sacrificed his ability to reproduce he had chosen to instead raise her as his own, in what little time he had left.

_This_ would be his immortality, _this_ would be his ever-lasting life, in the memories of this broken, and cursed child. He spared a thought for Riddle, locked in his manor in England with his Death Eaters milling about looking for a half-baked Prophecy spouted by some seeress whore. While Valmortis travelled all over England, spreading the fear of his _master's_ name to all corners of this forsaken island. He had yet to touch Ireland yet, mostly because the idea of an undead leprechaun was actually amusing and Valmortis loathed the thought of expending the thrill too quickly in his haste to witness the sight.

He was wrenched out of his inner meanderings as the Kelpies again began to stir, despite his efforts, and Epine's, he had little help for the water demons. They were a long shot at best with their primitive brains. He doubted they would be anything greater than their wood dwelling cousins had been; Dryads indeed.

He was not disappointed in his guess. The kelpies were vicious in their Undeath certainly, no less than they had been in life, and perhaps a touch more, but they were utterly brainless, attacking everything within reach, a terrible choice for foot soldiers for his growing horde.

The German born Bulgarian ex-convict knuckled his forehead wearily with both hands, the branch forgotten in the sand before he gestured blindly towards the mob with an undistinguished grunt of disapproval. He felt, rather than heard, Epine move away to clean up their mess. The experiment had been a failure, such a waste of magical blood too; he hadn't expected the kelpie grove to be so densely populated.

Grunting in disappointment he turned from the coast back to the small shack on the coast where he had been sleeping. It was a good thing Epine needed no slumber; she was excellent at keeping watch.

-:-

Harry cracked his eyes open on Saturday morning with a groan of discomfort that reminded him painfully of his days waking up at the Dursley's, he _hated_ cold weather. Hermione was awake in an instant, helping him sit up as his stiff scar tissue on his back stretched painfully. The scars had been healed, but like a plague had returned to his skin. Apparently his magic wanted him to remember those scars for some reason. Some days he loved magic, some days, like today, he hated it.

He was vaguely aware of Hermione helping him into steaming hot water, probably a bath. He groaned at the feeling of warmth encasing his battered frame. It was almost shameful how weak he was on these mornings. He was fifteen years old, supposedly in the prime of his life, up and at 'em and all that jazz. But here he was, crippled because of a damn frost. Their rooms seemed to fluctuate in their warmth, sometimes they were beautifully warmed and perfect for any weather. Sometimes however whatever charm was upon them seemed to fail and they would be plunged into the fullness of the Scottish climate.

On those days Harry and Hermione would often move to the fire, or on weekends such as now, the bath, where they would soak comfortably for hours. Harry couldn't think of a better way to spend a cold morning.

He winced as his the scalding water hit an open wound, he had been lashed by a sapling of the whomping willow the other day that had somehow managed to germinate on the edge of the forest. He vowed to go out one day and violently remove the vicious little plant that had situated itself so frustratingly on their running track. He heard Hermione's familiar groan of contentment as she too slipped into the hot water and rested against his chest. The baths at Hogwarts were so much better than the one in Oxford, for one the water never got cold, and while they could cast warming charms on the water back home the charms never seemed to get it quite right.

Here though the water was perfect, just on the cusp of being _too_ hot, but not quite there, excellent soaking temperature. Hermione had not yet added soap of any kind to the water and Harry marvelled in the sight of his beautiful witch under the clear water as he peered over her shoulder. She turned and kissed his ever stubbly cheek warmly before relaxing against his shoulder and chest. Instinctively his arms went around her waist and her hands covered his own where they laced over her stomach, holding her intimately against him. It struck him briefly that he couldn't remember actually getting to the bath and received a sheepish thought from Hermione.

Slightly amused he latched onto the feeling and coaxed it slightly, gently asking her to share what he had missed, or what she was hiding from him.

-:-

Hermione was mortified; he had noticed the gap in his memory. Sighing slightly she let go of the memories she was supressing and felt Harry tense behind her. She didn't want him to have to remember himself like that, half the reason that she hid it from him in the first place, but she wouldn't hide if from him when he was so obviously curious. He trusted her and she wouldn't break that for the world. It wasn't as if he couldn't handle the images, he had the first time round after all.

-:-

Hermione heard Harry's agonized groan in the pit of her lovely dream and abruptly she was awake. There was no transition from her dream filled state to awareness; she simply knew she had to be there for him, and so she was. Turning swiftly she took him into her arms and held him against her body, doing her best not to twist his back as he fell apart from the pain in her arms. A stab of anger for the Dursleys and Dumbledore shot through her as Harry succumbed to the pain of his old wounds. Some had bit deep into the muscles and they caused him considerable pain on days like this.

He had tried to have them healed discreetly by madam Pomfrey but they had returned. She and Harry had researched the phenomenon and found that it could have been either his own magic bringing the scars back for some reason, or the hatred of Vernon Dursley had imbued Harry's wounds with something akin to curse residue, just as love was a universal magic that even Muggles could draw from, so too was hatred, and Vernon Dursley had that in spades.

She felt terrible for him as he clung to her, desperate to find his strength again as spasms wracked his frame. She hated to think what the wizarding world would say if they could see their saviour, the duelling prodigy and Tri Wizard champion of such grace and power reduced to this state. She knew he hated the thought too. Carefully she levered him upright and, apologising, hit him with a body bind.

She had found it was pretty much the only way to move him safely when he was crippled like this. Some days his spine refused to respond entirely and he ended up paralyzed again, apparently a result of the injuries that he had suffered at the tender mercies of Valmortis and Voldemort in the manner in Little Hangleton. She thanked her lucky stars, Harry's too, that it only afflicted him on the coldest of days, and really only ever after sleeping, as he tended to remain still in his sleep which let the cold permeate deeper into his bones and scars.

She knew that the rest of the world could never know about this, it was a colossal weakness that Harry hated about himself and it would have been easy for an enemy to exploit. So, swearing Poppy to silence with a magical oath and learning from her how to treat her man she had taken the burden of his care onto her shoulders. Just like his splintered emotions and need to help others in pain, this she would support him with.

It was not difficult once he was immobilised to levitate him into the washroom and run a bath for them both. She had learned, from experience and instruction, that the easiest and most effective way to cure Harry's affliction was to reheat the chilled areas as thoroughly as possible, a good hot soak was the best solution either she or Poppy had come up with, though they were looking for a permanent cure.

Carefully she cupped Harry's jaw and locked eyes with him, silently apologising for what she was about to do. His gaze hardened slightly and he blinked once, letting her know he would be as okay as warranted in the situation.

Almost tearfully she released the body bind and held him against her as she stepped into the bath. He couldn't be bound forever and his muscles wouldn't relax in such a state, but unbinding him let loose the tremors that wracked his back and sides, causing him so much pain. Today was a mild day, the Christmas Holidays, while they were back in Oxford, would be almost unbearable for him.

-:-

Harry sighed, filing his memories away along with hers which she had shared with him. He hugged her more tightly to his body and said nothing. There was nothing to be said, she was doing him the greatest service he could ever ask of another human being, she was suffering for him, and he had no words to adequately thank her for her near daily toils. They wouldn't be running today, no, today they would recuperate, recuperate and hope for better days to come.

Better days wouldn't arrive for nearly three more years.

-:-

AN3: I don't know if my releases are getting further apart or remaining about steady, either way I loathe how far apart they in fact are. I'll do my best to ramp up my writing, should be easier now at any rate.

AN4: A couple of notes on this chapter. In this story, (Deceit and Lies), Harry is kind of a badass, he's a magical powerhouse, a sorcery prodigy, and even makes miniature drones controlled by artificial intelligence in his spare time. I wanted to use this chapter to point out that Harry is still very human, he's weak, and he suffers for what he does to protect others. More to the point the events that have pushed him to becoming the powerhouse that he is have left a horrendous toll on his body and mind.

AN5: Review Responses

JKarr: Thanks, I think? Interesting doesn't always mean good ;.;

Grey Lord: Kay, I mean I can see where you're coming from. But I feel like I need to point out a few things. Firstly, Fleur (Epine) has none of Voldemort's blood in her veins; it was merely used as a catalyst for the ritual that resurrected her. I know I didn't explain, showcase, or reveal the ritual, so you'll have to trust me on this. Secondly the idea of Harry maybe getting a power spike from this is double edged, Voldemort would share in the spike (If I were going that route) as he now shares Harry's blood. If anything it would just make them equals, and not to put too fine a point on it, but Harry's actually stronger than Voldemort, for reasons that will be explained next chapter.

Dragon Mistress of Redemption: Of course Fleur should have found peace, I want nothing more than that for her. But I want you, as the reader, to feel sorry for Epine, if I'd used an undeveloped character for her then you'd have no attachment, but because you knew Fleur (My Fleur at any rate), you've built an attachment with the character already, it's a sneaky trick author's like to pull sometimes to increase the emotions involved in a certain aspect of a story. Just imagine how bad I feel about writing her like this?

Anotherboarduser: I know about the feeling of slowness, I'm sorry about that. I'm personally someone who reads stories once they're finished so I know your pain. I loathe reading unfinished works. But sadly the story has to get there first before you can read it as such. Might I suggest reading the whole thing again once it's finished to get a better idea of the flow of the story?

Also tyvm for your comments on the previous chapter.

IcySneasel: I'm flooding this series with unique or modified characters and so far 99% of the response to them has been positive, so I thank you for your comments sir, you've joined an overwhelming majority.

Shadow Dragon: First off I like replying to long reviews, so it's all good. I've been toying with Automatons myself, and it does seem to be the only thing that fits, on the other hand there's been a name on the tip of my tongue for weeks that I can't quite remember that I think will fit them perfectly, We'll see. You've got some interesting ideas there. I'm not sure about Harry imbuing the… Automatons? Sure, with competitiveness, maybe? Maybe not? I feel like that it's in the spirit of the challenge, but not the assessment. I'll think about it. As for your comments on sorcery it's not a bad idea, though, again, I'm not sure where Harry would get the inspiration for such sorcels. I'll think on it.

Okay folks that's it for another… I'd say week but I'd be lying who knows when the next one is going to be out… ugh. Anyhoo, that's it for another chapter, thanks for reading and other shenanigans, stay tuned for; Chapter Eight: Power, whereupon Harry's crazy power spike in the last year and a half is explained and we learn a little more about Umbridge's past. See you next time!

LGreymark

-Ugh, a footnote is needed, I realized that I wrote the word 'Harry' A hundred times in this chapter (And reviews) I feel so scummy somehow… like I should be using pronouns more.


	8. Power

AN: *Insert huffy disclaimer here*

AN2:

-:-

Chapter Eight: Power

-:-

Time began to flow quicker after that, months slipped by and suddenly Harry was staring down the barrel of the Christmas Holidays. But things had not been calm.

Not since Harry's second year could he remember the castle being this tense. Auror's were now stationed around the grounds on six hour rotations, twenty four hours a day, the prefects were now patrolling through the night on hour long shifts and classes had become tense affairs that tested the patience of the teachers involved.

Personally Harry felt caged, he wanted to utilise his training, he wanted to get out there and take the fight to Voldemort and his Lieutenant, he wanted to avenge the dead both in his life and faceless. It had gotten to such a peak that when Harry had seen one of the Ravenclaw students bullying Luna Lovegood he had immobilised them and done a search for a dark mark, a detention was all he got for his trouble.

He was beginning to jump at shadows even within the castle walls and Hermione was just as bad, nearly obliterating Pavarti when she surprised the brunette in the library one afternoon. They needed to let off some steam.

-:-

Winter had struck hard and early and for the last few months the Quidditch pitch had been sub-zero when the Regiment began its trainings in the morning. There was a specific note of professionalism in the students Harry had been teaching, as if they all understood that this wasn't a game, they were a militia, an army, a layer of the defences around Hogwarts. They had expanded their repertoire to open duels; team based duelling and exercises like capture the flag, VIP defence and hostage extraction. Harry was immensely proud of how the group had progressed. He looked wistfully up at the sky but shook his thoughts away from that avenue of thought; Quidditch was a thing of the past for him.

Arrayed before himself and his bond-mate were the nineteen best fighters in the Regiment: Padma, Fred, George and their friend Lee, Daphne, Tracy, Susan, Alicia, Angelina, Ernie, A pair of Hufflepuff seventh years named Richard Parks and Emily Fletcher, multiple sixth year Ravenclaws including Cho Chang, Marietta Edgecome, Rosaline Spencer and Thomas McDonald. Seamus and Neville and Luna rounded out the numbers nicely leaving enough for seven squads of three.

Harry felt Hermione's muttered _Sonorous_ hit him in the throat and he spoke over the wind.

"You are the best nineteen people in the regiment, you're quick, you're powerful, you work well as a team and have shown great strength and promise in the team games we've started to work on in the last few months. From here on out the twenty one of us will be training together, there's a strong possibility if the auror's are tied up that we might need to go abroad on defensive missions as well. Eventually, and as the war progresses, I hope that we can turn ourselves into a quick response team to alleviate attacks on innocent families. If anyone here is uncomfortable or unwilling to participate in such an endeavour please say so now and we'll have you replaced."

Apart from the typical movements of those trying to keep warm in frigid temperatures no one so much as moved.

"Good. Hermione and I have been watching you progress and have tentatively organised you into six squads of three fighters, with Padma joining Hermione and myself in the command squad."

The faintest of excited squeals could be heard coming from Padma's direction who, while not as dramatic as her twin, was still very much a 'girly girl'.

"The squads are as follows: Squad one: Fred, George, Lee. Squad two: Emily, Alicia, Angelina. Squad three: Daphne, Tracy, Susan. Squad four: Luna, Ernie, Richard. Squad five: Seamus, Neville, Thomas. And Squad six: Cho, Marietta, Rosaline. If you don't already, get to know one another, from now on your squad will be like a second family, you'll need to trust each other implicitly if you're going to be an effective combat unit, house differences? Put them aside, previous disagreements? Erase them. This is bigger than petty squabbles between children. This is your lives. Am I understood?"

"Yes Sir!"

That was one thing that had come out of the Regiment that Harry hadn't expected, the other students treated him like their superior, a military superior. Hermione convinced him to reinforce the image by acting as such, if only so that it gave the Regiment a definite flag to rally around, a leader to look to who they could trust beyond anything. Harry wasn't sure he was happy with it but it did lend a certain air of professionalism to what they were doing.

"I've talked to Dumbledore, and your heads of house. Yes, including Snape."

There was a ripple of laughter through the somewhat ordered ranks.

"The quarters Hermione and I have been sharing for the last few months can be dramatically expanded. And have been so, we now have a commons, and a dorm for each squad. Mixed gender squads are being trusted to stick to the rules of proprietary but nevertheless charms have been placed on the rooms to alert heads of house if anything… inappropriate happens. It's not my idea so don't take it up with me regardless your feelings."

The group was silent. If the heads of house and the Headmaster had agreed to something so controversial this was serious.

"This isn't a game. People are dying, being slaughtered in their homes. We've lost family, all of us, and we've lost friends. We are the next generation of Magical Britain; we're the next generation of Aurors and healers and hit wizards, clerks and accountants and lawyers, politicians and shop keepers, teachers and researchers. We are charged with the responsibility of living through this war, thriving in spite of it, and coming out the other side victorious."

Harry took a sharp breath before continuing.

"I'm going to give you another responsibility. You are one and all, powers in your own right. Maybe not on my level, or Dumbledore's level, or Voldemort's level, but you're all trained, you're all strong, fast, and above all, you're all part of a team. I've read countless reports, and watched innumerable pensive memories and what have I learned? The death eaters are not a team; they're individuals, horrible, nasty, filthy individuals who fight for themselves, individually almost every one of you is stronger than them, as a team we will be unstoppable. The responsibility I'm asking you to shoulder is the safety of your peers, the safety of your families, and the families of those who cannot defend themselves, the safety of the future of Magical Britain.

We are the First Hogwarts Regiment. And by Merlin, we will not back down!"

They actually cheered.

-:-

That had been the start of what would rapidly become one of the most controversial pieces of legislature to come out of the Second Blood war as that time would come to be known, the legislature that removed the underage restriction of magic for those part of the Hogwarts Regiment, which would become the first organised military unit in Magical Britain, the best of whom would be taken straight into the Wizarding Anti Necromancy Division (otherwise known as WAND) which was dedicated to stamping out dark arts practitioners especially those practising Necromancy and Blood Rituals.

The Regiment lived together, ate together, trained together. In the months running up to and surrounding Christmas three more squads would be formed from those in the non-squad section of the Regiment as they became skilled enough to advance (Otherwise known as non-coms or non-combatants). Each squad quickly gained a certain sense of pride in their members and title, and each gave themselves a moniker or call sign. Harry was particularly amused by Daphne, Susan and Tracy's squad name "Harry's Angels". Soon even non regiment students began to refer to the Regiment members by their squad names.

The only hiccup had been Padma's living quarters, Harry and Hermione were obviously reluctant to move out of their private apartment after having grown accustomed to living there, and Padma had outright refused to let them do so. In the end she was given a bedroom that adjoined to the small sitting room that Harry and Hermione shared. It was as close to a perfect solution as they were likely to find and the quiet Ravenclaw was happy to sleep alone for the first time in her life. Pleased of the solitude.

The Regiment's training Exercises soon became something of a spectator event. Some of the Students and most of the teachers would brave the cold in the early morning to watch the Regiment's war-games and the spectacular magic that was on display. Harry just hoped that all the training would be enough.

-:-

Hogwarts wasn't the only theatre to be experiencing turmoil, within a week of the announcement that Voldemort had returned a vote of No Confidence ousted Fudge from his office and there was a bitter debate and argument for who should succeed him, eventually, and by a mere four percent of the Wizengamot vote Amelia Bones was instated as Minister and, as if she had been planning for the outcome, immediately set several actions in motion.

The first was the aforementioned legislation that gave Harry Hermione and the rest of the Regiment full licence to perform magic as adults. Hot on its heels came an inhibition breaker on Auror Spell limits. In layman's terms they were now authorized all magic barring the Unforgivables on marked Death eaters and Sympathisers. Hermione had followed the debate in the Wizengamot through the Prophet (Which magically became almost totally factual after Fudge left office) and it had been almost as trying as the election debates that saw Madam Bones into office.

By the time the Christmas Holidays had rolled around the Death eaters were forced underground, many prominent members of pureblood society had been ousted as Death eaters or Sympathisers and over half of those had been executed, including both Malfoy parents and the Crabbe and Goyle Families, all of whom had been too slow to disappear, or too arrogant.

Voldemort's war machine ground to a sudden and unexpected halt, his funds had been removed, his followers neutered, and his attacks of terror had been nullified by emergency portkeys handed out to wizarding families. Muggles were their only viable targets remaining and even then, there was little they could do without being immediately swooped down upon by the Hit Wizards and Aurors.

Harry was simply happy that so far the Regiment was untested; he knew they were strong but, despite his earlier proclamations, they weren't ready for combat as a unified force. Aside from the political and militaristic events pervading Harry's life his studies were almost as interesting, if not downright exciting.

-:-

The charms lesson the whole of Fifth year had been waiting for rolled around in late October. Postponed twice due to terrible weather the fifth years were champing at the bit to have their promised race and a small betting pool had sprung up.

Finally, on the twenty eighth of October, twenty seven students from the four houses lined up their automatons (As they had been so dubbed by an enterprising Ravenclaw), on the start line of the intimidating cross country course, the finish line programmed into their AI runes and wards and, with little ado, Flitwick started the race.

Harry quickly realized that few of the students had cottoned on to Harry's solution to many of the issues that surrounded the Automaton's power drains when separated from their creators. Many of the contraptions stuttered to a halt about halfway through the race, typically to the groans of their owners.

Hermione had rebuilt the entire ward schema and had replaced many of the locomotion charms for a much more efficient machine. Harry's creation got to the finish line, but wasn't the winner. No, that honour went to, of all people, Ernie Macmillan, who had apparently spent several dozen hours tinkering and perfecting his little creation.

The race was exciting, tense, and above all fascinating to watch. The sight of the swarm of a bit more than twenty Automatons all speeding over the frozen ground and conjured obstacles was incredible. Afterwards though was the real test, Harry put his heavily modified Automaton at the start line and at the signal from Flitwick, let it loose.

It sped forwards in rapid leaping bounds; it's six legs automatically adjusting for terrain imperfections and dips in the ground. When it came to the first major obstacle its leaping sprint converted to a rapid front crawl as it ascended the vertical shelf, but not before leaping from the ground to over halfway up the surface and twisting in mid-air to cling to the wood. Harry couldn't have been more proud of his work when the Automaton butchered the fastest time set by Ernie's contraption by being nearly twice as fast. He was rather pleased to earn Gryffindor twenty points alongside Ernie's forty.

The aftermath of the race back in the Regiment's barracks was something to see.

-:-

Hermione opened the door to the Regiment's combined quarters, or as they were starting to be known; 'The Barracks', and a wall of noise hit her as the commons was filled with discussions going on, Harry was immediately yanked from her side and plopped down in a chair to share his secrets with the Weasley twins and Hermione was beckoned over by Daphne and Tracy and Susan who looked rather content.

Sighing slightly as she sank into the large comfortable armchair the three girls had directed her to Hermione raised one of her eyebrows at them.

"How long exactly has Harry been a charms master?"

Hermione choked on her breath for a second at that bald question from Daphne, who Hermione had learned was awkwardly forthright at times.

"He's not; he just has a passion for those automatons of his, most of it is actually transfiguration. For instance my ward schema was actually more complex than his."

The three girls shared an amused look; again it was Daphne that spoke.

"Well how long has he been a transfiguration master then?"

Hermione looked askance at her and the blonde Slytherin

"What on earth are you talking about Daphne? He hasn't learned anything you two haven't."

The snort that came from her was best described, Hermione thought, as unladylike

"Bollocks, Flitwick and McGonagall looked over his little contraption after the race and McGonagall of all people was muttering in wonder about how he did what he did. He knows something the rest of us don't Hermione. Fred and George have clearly cottoned onto the fact; they're trying to eek it out of him as we speak."

Hermione was, for want of a better word, alarmed.

"I'm telling you all now, as someone who has intimate knowledge of Harry's mind, he doesn't know any more magic than any of you when it comes to transfiguration, or charms for that matter."

Daphne waved her off

"It's not about what spells he knows, it's about how he uses them. I saw the miniature eyes he made for that thing; it looked like it was alive Hermione. _Alive_, I don't know how he did it but McGonagall and Flitwick are both scrabbling for answers."

Hermione couldn't help but beam in pride, trust _her_ wizard to make such a ruckus accidentally, only the son of James Potter could achieve such a feat.

"He spent hours tinkering on that thing, I witnessed him carve springs from stone then transmute them into tungsten, tungsten of all things. Those eyes were made from quartz and carved stone before they too were transmuted, runes already applied. I don't know if he's a master of the craft, just very, very, dogged in his pursuit of excellence."

Susan shot her a sly look

"It's kind of hot isn't it?"

Hermione blushed crimson at being caught.

"Yes well, if he turns his laser like focus on you you'll understand. Regardless he's no more knowledgeable than any of you three, more practised perhaps, and I would suggest that McGonagall has simply never thought to use the spells she taught Harry in such a manner, hence the confusion."

Tracy finally spoke

"Regardless of the reasons behind it he's a power Hermione, you're a lucky girl to have him all to yourself."

She glanced over at Hermione's man and sighed wistfully.

"If only we could all be so lucky."

-:-

The discussion with Fred and George was going in a much different direction.

"So do explain to us exactly how these marvellous contraptions of yours work."

"Yes do, and while you're at it bring one out for us to observe."

Much of the school had come to watch the race despite it being an event locked to fifth year participation. Apparently any kind of spectacle is worth watching once. Rolling his eyes at the twins Harry fished his juiced automaton out of his robes (Now configured to 'idle') and simply left it on the table where it proceeded to scurry about and look around in what appeared to be a deceptively inquisitive fashion. The twins immediately began fussing over it, tugging the legs out straight to examine the joints, flipping it over to observe the undercarriage, etc. They did not however stop talking and asking questions.

"Where on Earth did you get springs this small?"

"What metal is this? It's so rigid"

"What tools do you use to shape the stone before you transfigure it? This is some fine detail work, smooth too."

"Have you tried…"

"Lads, stop, give me a second to answer."

The twins looked at him with equal expressions of impatience and unrepentance.

"We'll hurry up then."

"Yes do."

What followed was one of the most in depth interrogations Harry had ever experienced, and he privately thought that he had a great deal of experience with interrogations having Hermione as a friend and lover coupled with his proclivity for unexpected, unfortunate and utterly unwanted adventures, misadventures and enterprises and the questioning they generated when they were over.

The twins wanted to know everything about the Automaton. Every detail was examined closely from the stone he had used for the original transfiguration to the metal it had become, the method by which he shaped the stone and so on. They were particularly impressed when he explained the assembly of the eyes and the springs on the legs, but were impressed overall with his creation.

"Why do you want to know all of this stuff anyway?"

"So we can make them ourselves."

"Obviously we need the full specifications."

Harry raised an eyebrow

"What possible use could you two have for one of these, or many of these for that matter?"

They fixed him with an amused look, and it was quite amusing in return to see them both looking at him so earnestly.

"Why subterfuge!"

"Observation!"

"Reconnoitre!"

"Distraction!"

"Sabotage!"

"Surprises!

"And last and likely least"

"Ink well carriers."

The last made Harry loose a bark of laughter before leaning forwards onto his elbows and fixing the twins with a speculative eye.

"This is for your shop isn't it?"

Fred and George nodded in synch

"You weren't going to try and take the concept from me without paying royalties were you?"

The twins looked genuinely offended, but then they could affect that whenever they chose from many hours of practise with their mother so Harry wasn't buying it.

"You wound us Harry."

"Deeply and with a big spikey something."

"We were intending to reimburse you for every unit sold."

"Never believe otherwise."

Harry simply snorted

"I believe you, truly I do. You have options here however. They are exceptionally time consuming to produce, especially this model, though a lot of that time was trial and error. On the other hand Hermione is starting to get annoyed at tripping over them in the mornings because I tend to tinker when I'm stressed, and that's often. As a trade-off, why don't you let me perfect the process and then just manufacture them for you and you buy them off me wholesale."

The twins looked at each other and then shifted into a two-person huddle whispering frantically. In the back of his mind he felt Hermione's relief at his proposition, for all his tidiness the Automatons had a talent for being in the way of her feet, tender from the cold, in the mornings and more than once she had had to heal a stubbed toe.

Eventually they turned back to him, one of them wearing a pleased expression, the other speculative. When they spoke however it was a mixture of both from each of them.

"That's all very well and good."

"But what if we want to develop new designs ourselves?"

"Would you let us tinker with the designs then send them back to you for manufacture?"

"And would you be able to produce enough units for retail sales? They'll probably sell like hot cakes."

Harry thought about that for a second before answering, a thought from Hermione entered his mind and it was just what he needed, apparently she was okay with the plan because she was actively thinking of ways to make it better.

"I don't mind you tinkering with them, or making them for your own amusement, just not selling them without some of the profit getting back to me. Typically I'd just say keep the money, it's not like I'm lacking, but I spent, and spend, a lot of hours creating these and, different from the Tri Wizard winnings, I feel like I've earned this coin.

As for production en-masse: Hermione thinks she can create something to make the process much quicker for me, so you'll have your numbers, can't tell you exactly how many, but they'll be there."

That seemed to be enough for the twins who rose and departed soon after, having already given him an owl post address for the creations. Harry was amused to see it was a location in Diagon alley that he assumed the twins were already renting.

A couple of seconds later Hermione sat down in his lap and snuggled into his chest, quite content to relax in front of the fireplace.

"They really appreciate what you did for them you know? It's just the Weasley pride that stops them from thanking you, makes it seem more like charity that way. I'd suggest they're actually happy you're demanding to be paid for your little contraptions, makes it easier for them to take them from you to sell in the first place."

Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders and turned in the seat slightly so she'd have a more comfortable perch on his lap.

"I know, they're so stubborn I figured that must have been the case when they caved to my demands without debate. I'll not take much from them, a couple of percent maybe, it's not like I need the cash or anything."

He felt her lips press to the underside of his jaw and he smiled at the touch

"That's just another reason why I love you sweetheart, you're so generous."

He gave her a loving squeeze before settling back against the chair to watch the comings and goings in the room. After a few minutes Padma came and sat down opposite them, looking like she wanted to talk. The two lovers disentangled from each other and Hermione shifted in Harry's lap so she could get a better set of eyes on the Indian heritage witch as the girl began to speak.

"What exactly are you expecting of me as a part of the 'command squad'? We haven't been any different from the others in training so far but I feel that's about to change."

-:-

Hermione couldn't help but smirk at Padma's intuition, it had been spot on, she let Harry field this question as the Regiment was his project more than hers, and she did reflect that she really should find a hobby of her own, though she didn't know where she would find the time. Harry somehow managed to have time for school, homework, sleep, tinkering, time with her (Which he made a point of putting time aside for), and the Regiment. She didn't know how he was always so impeccably well timed; it had been a new development in their lives too, before this year Harry had always been horrendously lax about timings, and tardy to many events purely from lack of proper organisation or drive to get up in the mornings.

His voice cut through her musings.

"You're not wrong Padma, so far we've mostly been involved in joint operations where we'll be on the ground with the other squads, and for the most part that will be our goal. After the Christmas break we're going to introduce what will more or less be pitched battle simulations. The three of us will be responsible for making sure that the squads are all where they need to be and are backing each other up sufficiently.

As for long term, this is likely to be the squad that engages Voldemort head on one day, and Hermione and I both understand if you don't want to be a part of that."

Hermione saw her visibly tense and thought that maybe Padma had suspected that kind of an answer but never really definitely thought it would be that. Now with the confirmation before her Hermione wondered if the younger girl would be able to handle the idea.

She seemed to battle with herself on the topic before answering with a cautious tone.

"Can I have some time to think about this? It's rather a big thing to decide on the spot."

Harry nodded easily next to Hermione as he spoke

"Absolutely, talk to your twin about it if you need to, we don't mind but be careful with that. Let's face it, she's a gossip, and I don't know if you want it known that you're considering being a part of the team that might one day fight him face to face."

She gained a questioning look and Hermione braced herself for the discussion to come.

"And that's another thing, why did you pick me to be your third of all people? There are a lot of strong fighters in the Regiment, and I'd argue that one of the seventh years would be a better choice."

A non-verbal request from Harry prompted Hermione to answer this one from her spot in his lap

"You're a power unto yourself Padma, you have the drive to better yourself, magical strength, leadership qualities that we need in the command squad, and a certain talent with a wand. All that aside though you're the best person for the job because you're closest to our magical skill level, while also being closest to us in age. You're six months younger than me, which makes you about seven months older than Harry, maybe eight, we get on well with you, you know when to give orders to the other squads and when to take them from Harry. You're smart and intuitive, and most of all you're willing to learn."

Harry took over

"Another thing to consider is that a lot of the other, perhaps more skilled, people in the group already have partners with whom they are much better suited to fighting with, or would be worried about in the heat of battle if they weren't side by side. We'd have taken George had that not been the case for many of the same reasons that we decided on you. At the end of the day though we're not planning on fighting Riddle now, not in even in a couple of years; really we'd prefer to leave it as long as possible, but we have to consider that he might not want to wait that long, and you're the best person for the position at this time, which makes you invaluable to us as we can trust you, and that more than anything else is important."

Hermione saw tears welling in the young witch's eyes and she moved from Harry's lap to wrap Padma in a hug.

"I'm not just extra? You actually need me?"

A flash of inspiration struck home. That's what she was worried about, the idea that there was simply nowhere else to put her, that she was spare. She wanted to be needed instead of just accepted.

"Of course we need you. With a couple of exceptions you're the most talented person we've trained, we handpicked you to fight alongside us Padma. When the time comes, there's no one we'd rather have by our side."

She felt an approving burst from Harry and she knew she'd done the right thing, she was forcibly reminded that this little militia they had cobbled together was made of children, talented children certainly but children nevertheless. They were insecure, and needed validation, they needed to be shown the way if only so they could walk upon it. but when push came to shove, all of these children, these young men and women, would fight for what was right.

A thought washed over her and Harry agreed, they needed combat experience, against enemies that didn't pull their punches. They needed to be able to face their fears and move on, so that they could stand firm in the face of Voldemort's forces when the time came.

In short, they needed a lot of boggarts.

-:-

Defence against the dark arts rapidly became something that the entire school either looked forward to or treated with trepidation, for those students who were less than stern of stomach the class became something of a trial. For those of strong constitution, it became a fascinating learning experience. This was because for all intents and purposes Defence against the dark arts had become a monster hunting guide: Specifically a guide on hunting and disposing of the undead.

They couldn't practise any banishing rituals or charms, those were of course seventh year material and rightly so as they involved soul magic that was dangerous to even living things. But they could learn and practise the methods to bind and cripple true undead, and destroy false undead such as Inferi and skeletons.

Harry had noticed that so far they had only discussed minor undead. And Harry privately suspected that Umbridge was waiting for after the Christmas break to begin on the more challenging topics, the lesson they had just before the end of term supported his theory, and gave Hermione and himself something to think about over the holidays.

-:-

As was by now typical the door of the classroom snapped shut of its own accord once the last student, Pavarti today, had sat down. And, as was typical Professor Umbridge began speaking immediately.

"By now each of you have killed a vampire. You've taken the existence of another creature, and sent its soul to the great beyond. But really, what do any of you understand about souls, about spirits? Certainly by now you understand that they are very much real, there is enough anecdotal and factual evidence to support this. You also know that they can be manipulated with magic, but not on a fundamental level like physical matter can. You should also have figured out that each of you has a soul. For most of you this information would be enough I suspect. However, to understand the material that I will be teaching you after the Christmas break you all need to have a much firmer understanding of soul theory."

She took a drink from the ever present clear tonic before continuing.

"Many people have attempted to define a soul, have attempted to visualize one, or bring it into the understanding of magical kind. The true nature of a soul however still eludes the researchers and philosophers of the magical world. With our understanding of the creation of Mummies and their role in ancient Egyptian religion, we can see that Humans have been experimenting and researching the soul for thousands of years. It is, and I suspect, will ever be the greatest mystery of our world.

However, some truths have become known. Last year the muggles cloned a sheep for the first time. That is they created an infantile copy of a sheep; this is significant because as some of you will be aware our composition, our genetic code, is unique from person to person, from animal to animal. The muggles have managed to exactly copy, or clone, a sheep, a perfect genetic match. The animal is healthy and whole, and lives to this day*."

A murmur of unease ran through the room, the creation of alchemical homunculi, essentially magical clones, had been outlawed nearly five hundred years ago and the techniques lost to all bar Nicholas Flamel and Dumbledore himself. Umbridge's tone as she continued speaking indicated she knew exactly what her class was muttering about.

"Indeed, the muggles are already expanding their efforts into cloning other animals. But doubts have been raised, and a debate is raging through the muggle academic community about the theory of cloning humans. The debate essentially revolves around whether the clone would be the same person as the original, or completely different."

She took another sip, and Harry privately wondered if she did so to let the class mull over her words or if she actually needed the liquid.

"We'll not be diving into that however, but it does raise an interesting point, and it's the same question that was asked by our ancestors hundreds of years ago when they were creating magical homunculi, and, for the most part, their questions were answered. The homunculi clones were alive, but utterly lifeless, devoid of the spark of humanity that allowed them to learn and grow into functioning members of society. In short they were missing souls.

Of course this raises many more questions, where do souls come from? Are they 'given out' by a deity? Are they created upon conception in a mother's womb? We'll never know the answers I suspect but some things can be ruled out and others tentatively confirmed: For one souls are typically indefinite, they don't expire or disappear, though a Dementor can cage a soul permanently. They are also used by multiple bodies, there have been magical experiments performed that have tracked the same souls across multiple generations of humans. And yes, I say humans. Every one of your souls has inhabited many, many muggle bodies throughout history. Our souls are identical to theirs in every respect.

This raises yet more questions, but we are diverging from our topic slightly. I am trying to convey a simple truth about souls which you all need to get firmly rooted in your minds; souls are eternal, and the binds between souls will last for all time."

Harry felt a rush of warmth across his bond with Hermione and looked sideways to see her eyes brimming slightly. A thought not of his own making rushed through him.

'Eternity Harry, you have me for eternity.'

That thought alone made his day. Victoria Umbridge's unsettling voice interrupted their moment.

"As I'm sure that Mr Potter and Miss Granger have figured out this has some rather profound consequences. Not all of these consequences however, are good, or even fair. For instance, the souls of Merlin and Morgana are forever locked in rivalry; we see them throughout the ages popping up, a single dominant force on light and dark fighting for dominance. And furthermore for those souls bound as undead, their partner souls, those bonded to them either in strife or harmony, are also bound as undead along with them.

Relationships between souls brings up another point, and it's one that leads directly into our theory for greater undead and why they're so dangerous. We've ascertained so far that all souls have the potential for magic yes? Souls in muggle sand wizards are identical thus the soul itself mustn't be what grants or restricts magic. However souls _are_ a source of power, when we talk about our 'magical cores' we really should just say 'souls' but it has become something of a fashion not to talk of them as such.

Why then, if souls are such a good source of power do some wizards and witches have so much more power than others, and for that matter why can't muggles call upon the power as well? It's to do with our bodies, specifically our genes, what is often incorrectly referred to as 'magical blood' should be referred to as 'magical genes' that being the essential physiological part of us that allows us to control magic.

Here's where we have to diverge from the topic slightly and introduce all of you to basic genetics, that being the study of how genetic information is passed on from generation to generation and how the magical gene stays within communities and doesn't spread like wildfire."

Harry could feel Hermione beside him like a tense ball of energy, this was of course immensely fascinating to her not least of which because might go towards explaining why she was magical and her parents weren't.

"When a child is conceived it is made from the half of the genetic information from its father, and half from its mother. This information is called genes, and they come in pairs and inside those pairs are two different types of genes. That being recessive and dominant genes, when these genes pair up they dictate different aspects of the child's appearance, and possibly even character; hair colour, skin colour, eye colour, height, finger length and so on. To give you a better idea and to get to the heart of the matter let's use an example: Two parents, one muggle, the other magical have a child. The magical gene is dominant, so even if the muggle has no magical genes at all, there can still be magical children, especially if the magical parent is female, but that's a different topic altogether. Let's propose that for the sake of the discussion the magical parent has a single magic carrying gene and a single non-magic carrying gene in their pair and the Muggle has two non-magic carrying genes. This might occur if the magical parent is a half blood, or a pureblood that is particularly inbred.

In the given example children from this coupling are likely to be about half and half, that being that about half of the children will be magical, and the other half will be non-magical. This is the basic theory, however in the last decade or so muggleborn scientists examining the phenomena have discovered a third possible gene, the 'Squib' gene. That is a magical gene that instead of allowing the control of magic, merely carries the ability to pass it on to any offspring the carrier of this gene has. Let's go back to our example couple; any non-magical children resulting from the couple will have two squib genes instead of the 'non-magic' gene, everyone following so far?"

The nods around the class were mostly tentative, with only Harry and Hermione (Who both already had a grounding in the theory) giving a strong answer. Umbridge seemed satisfied, and Harry suspected she wasn't particularly well versed with the subject matter either.

"When two of these squib genes meet in a new child, a guaranteed magic carrying gene is the result resulting in fully magical offspring. Because of the nature of the squib gene it breeds true through generations, meaning that even if a non-magical child bearing the squib gene couples with a muggle, the result will be a child with another two squib genes in one hundred percent of cases. This means that the squib gene can be passed through dozens of generations of totally non-magic folk until it finally comes into contact with either another squib gene or a magic-carrying gene. This is how muggle-born students come about; two muggles, both carrying the squib gene, couple and produce a magical child, because of the nature of this genetic nuance all children from two non-magical parents bearing the squib gene will be magical, and will carry two magic-carrying genes."

Next to Harry Hermione was nearly humming with excitement, Harry had to admit that he wasn't too far from that point himself.

"Curiously then a non-magical parent with both squib genes coupling with a magical parent that has a single non-magic carrying gene, actually has a lower chance of producing magical children then two non-magical parents with both squib genes each. As a squib gene interacting with the non-magic carrying gene will produce another offspring with both squib genes, but no controllable magic."

Harry frowned as a thought came to him and he raised his hand with a thoughtful expression.

"Yes Mr Potter?"

"Ma'am, if this is true then why is my aunt non-magical, if my mother was muggleborn and magical then surely my aunt should be too."

She fixed him with a thoughtful look.

"There is every chance that she is in fact magical Mr Potter, from what little I know of your home life there is also every chance that she intentionally denies that side of herself, thereby weakening it, or alternately is simply too weak magically for her to be magical in any meaningful sense. The only situation where she would not be magical would be if Lily Evans was adopted."

Harry sat back in his seat a little more heavily than he intended and slumped slightly, thoughts running through his mind like wildfire, consuming all in their path with the doubts of his mother's parentage.

"It is worth noting that just because a child is magical does not mean that it is powerfully magical, that tends to come from a variety of other factors, not least of which the soul of the individual in question. This may indicate that your aunt is in fact a squib, but I could not say for certain."

Another sip of the tonic, for the umpteenth time Harry wondered what it was, Hermione's admonishment that it was probably just a cordial to wet her throat calmed his curiosity

"Back to the original topic of the day, and what I have been looking forward to introducing to you all for some time, the theory of soul density."

Harry shot a confused look at Hermione, it was returned equally

"Soul density is a concept that seeks to explain the relative power levels of different magical beings. We've discussed how humans possess souls, but also consider that all magical beings with even the smallest hint of self-awareness also possess a soul. Some of these magical creatures are more magical than others, krups for example have very little magical power at all, and of course on the other end of the scale we have magical creatures like dragons, phoenixes and humans.

Humans have the greatest capacity for magical growth of any living creature, typically dragons and phoenixes are more powerful outright, but there are a few human magicals who have surpassed them, which indicates that the human race as a whole is capable of untold magical power. This comes from our souls, which are incredibly dense. Now this density is not related to physical mass, as far as anyone can tell souls have no physical presence. However, the material that they are made from, otherwise known as ectoplasm, can either be tightly woven or loosely woven, depending on the kind of being it is meant for.

This is of course highly theoretical but there are some experiments the French have been performing with Ectoplasmic looms and artificial soul weaving that suggests it is a very real phenomenon. The specifics of the theory are rooted in advanced Arithmancy and are too complex for even the smartest of school children, suffice it to say however that the denser the ectoplasm is woven, the more magic can cling to its fibres and produce a more magical being. "

She stepped towards her desk slowly and grasped a long staff that had been lying across it. It was of ornate and ancient make, few wizards or witches used staffs today because of their inherent lack of subtlety in a world where walking staves were rarely used anymore. The designs on the staff were distinctly eastern but Harry could not pick the location.

"This is the staff belonging to an Egyptian priest by the name of Tutehumut who lived nearly five thousand years ago at the beginning of the first Egyptian dynasty. Note the lack of animal carvings that signify one of the dynastic kingdoms. This staff is, to this day, still fully capable of casting magic."

As if to illustrate she levitated her chair with the ancient magical instrument.

"Why do I have this artefact here you ask? A story for another time, what I brought it here to show you was the soul gem in the top of the device."

With a twist of her wrist the defence teacher unscrewed the head of the staff and extracted a thin crystal that was glowing slightly.

"In days long past wizards, for there were few recognised witches in ancient Egypt, used soul gems to power their magical instruments instead of material from a magical creature. As a result these instruments are dramatically more powerful than anything we can create today. Even a squib can cast NEWT level spells through one of these devices with little trouble. Their use outside of ministry approved practitioners is banned however, because of the nature of soul gems.

This gem draws power directly from my soul, bypassing my body completely, it then amplifies it multiple times through the carvings along the haft before releasing through the head of the staff. I have used this staff a scant hundred or so times over the course of my ministry career as a researcher, each time a decent space of duration apart from the last. This is because it is utterly unpredictable, if I had not spend over a decade training to use this device the staff might have sent my chair rocketing through the roof, or nothing might have happened at all.

What our modern wands do that this staff fails to, is take our minds into consideration. When I speak the words for a spell and this staff hears them and reacts, it draws whatever magic it feels it needs to for the spell; whereas a wand also has the intent of our own minds in its process. For ancient Egyptian priests this was little trouble as their magic was more for dramatic effect than anything organised, but for modern day witches and wizards it is wildly impractical.

Why does this matter? Because it cements in your mind that the soul itself contains the magic, one way of thinking about souls is like a container of sorts, our bodies convert some of their energy into magic, which is then trapped and contained by our souls to be drawn out later to cast spells. Something to understand immediately is that souls have a limit to how much magic they can contain. It is not a fixed value and often increases steadily with a being's age and physical fitness, but it is a limit nonetheless."

Harry had an inkling of where this was going and he shared another look with Hermione, this one excited and was mirrored in her eyes.

"Going back to our discussion about the relationships between souls we can now move on to why all of this is important to our study of the undead. So far the true undead we have discussed have been examples of single souls, drawn back from the great beyond, or stopped from leaving this plane, to exist in a sort of half-life. Greater undead are universally a collection of souls, an amalgamation of many different entities bound together in a powerful union. The method through which they are bound differs per entity, Nosferatu for example trap the souls of their victims within themselves, remaining dominant and using the other souls as storage devices for power. Such creatures get exponentially more dangerous as they age. Liches on the other hand are the result of a trio of souls being bound together forcefully at the time of their death. Actually that is slightly misleading, as arithmantic theory suggests that Liches could be made from any prime number of souls, though three is most common. The most dangerous of these beings is the revenant, which constantly draws more souls from the great beyond into itself, becoming almost unstoppably strong. Finally Wights are the least powerful, though that is like saying Albus Dumbledore is less Powerful than Merlin, they are both strong individuals only differing by one or two percent of their potential. A Wight will claim the soul of a living creature by sucking it out through its mouth, then bonding with it internally. They will only do this once in their existence though that is still enough to make them terrifyingly powerful."

Harry had a thought but it was answered immediately by the teacher.

"For those of you who noticed the similarity with Dementors you are partially correct, Dementors are, for one, not undead but rather living creatures that feed on ectoplasm, the only similarity is the method by which they feed, though even that is misleading as Dementors will literally suck the souls from their victims, whereas Wights will often trick their prey into kissing them or lure them into giving up their souls of their own free will.

If we understand that a creature's soul is its container for magic, then having multiple souls bound together obviously greatly increases this potential. However the increase is not linear, it is exponential."

Umbridge turned and began drawing something on her blackboard with a piece of chalk, typically she would use her wand for such a task but she was either too passionate about her topic or too distracted to notice.

"Each soul involved lends its own power to the bond, so for two souls this would be, typically, about double the normal value. However, the bond is equal to more than the sum of its parts, adding the combined values of the souls within it to the total added value of all the souls. Let's assume for a second that the value of a soul is 'one' in a normal soul bound, with two souls, we would then add the value of the souls together, that being two, then add to that the total value of the souls again, essentially doubling it for a final value of four. But this becomes more complex when we add more souls into the equation."

She stepped back from the board to reveal a strange looking tree with values bunched up in pairs.

"Souls naturally pair off, even in bonds of more than two souls, and this has a strange effect on the way power increases in large soul bonds occur. One simple, somewhat over simple if truth be told, way of describing the situation is by viewing any soul bond as a collection of smaller soul bonds where each pair of soul bonds individually adds it's worth to the whole. When we had our original pair of souls we determined, again assuming that the souls had an arbitrary value of 'one' that the total value would be four, each of the souls, doubled. But what happens when we have a soul bond involving four souls? Each of the souls would contribute its value to the bond, in this case four, then both of the pairs would contribute their total value to the bond, in this case eight, that being two bonds of four total, then the bond as a whole would double that value again, four, plus eight, doubled is twenty four. As you can see this quickly gets out of hand, even when we're assigning such a paltry and arbitrary value to each soul for the sake of explanation.

Suffice it to say that every pair of souls within a soul bond dramatically increases its power. This is why Litches are significantly less powerful than either Nosferatu or Revenants, because with only a prime number of souls they cannot ever have a perfect set of pairs. Regardless even with two souls a soul bonded couple, such as Mr Potter and Miss Granger, can expect to be roughly four times as powerful as anyone else in this school, and with Mr Potter's personal power levels I would estimate that value at being something like twelve or sixteen times higher than anyone else here."

Needless to say that Harry and Hermione had a lot to think about that night as they lay in each other's arms.

-:-

Christmas had arrived and as such, both Harry and Hermione were excited to be going home as they boarded the Hogwarts express for the trip back to Kings Cross. It was still somewhat new for Harry who had spent many years dreading being at home. Most of those memories were thankfully gone, though to this day he still lived with the scars. Dan and Emma had kept regular contact with their children, as they verbally included Harry in that category, and had intimated that they had exciting and surprising news for the two when they got home. Apparently it was not news one shared via owl, got home. Emma was apparently at home cooking a welcome home dinner as, typically, it was rather late when the train docked in the station and only Dan would be there to greet them.

The two teens were of mixed feelings, they would miss their personal quarters at Hogwarts dearly as the space had very much become a second home for them, and the rambunctious camaraderie of the regiment would be sorely missed by both Harry and Hermione over the winter break. Moreover Harry realized that he still did not know his adopted family as much as he would like, he had barely spent seven months in Emma and Dan's company since he had met them. It was a strange feeling for Harry; he had never really known any kind of family. But now he found himself craving that knowledge like a man in the desert craves water.

Hermione was partially trepidatious as there were a great many members of the Regiment who had unwarded homes, and were unable to afford wards to protect themselves and their families. There were few Muggleborns left and those who were had stoically gone home with grim casts to their eyes. Hermione had discussed financing the warding of the homes of those who could not otherwise do so but after checking the costs via Gringotts they found that even Harry's trust vault was too meagre for even a single ward scheme, the Grangers were truly lucky to be living under the aegis of the Fidelius charm.

Harry had dispensed personal portkeys as much as he possibly could, Dumbledore had given him around a hundred that were linked to the entrance hall at Hogwarts with the intent of him giving them to the members of the Regiment who were unable to ward their homes so that they and their families could have a modicum of safety.

Hermione watched her man as he reattached a mechanical leg to one of his automatons, in some freak accident of magical programming the tiny thing had leapt gleefully from their window on the seventh floor of the castle, and without Harry's magic nearby to sustain it, it had disintegrated in mid-air. When Harry had eventually taken the time to retrieve it, it had been little more than parts to be reassembled.

The weather had been getting steadily colder, that morning had been the first time in some time that Harry's back had outright refused to work, and he had been immobilised on the bed until Hermione had been awakened by his distress. The weeks to come would be a trial that would be new to their parents. Dan and Emma knew academically about Harry's infirmity but had yet to see it first-hand, and Hermione knew that seeing what Harry's wounds could do to him was a humbling experience.

She had never met anyone more driven in her entire life. He had learned the Patronus charm at the age of thirteen, had personally battled Voldemort to a standstill, and had almost singlehandedly transformed a motley bunch of school kids into a passable, if yet untested, fighting unit. Yet he could be felled to such a fragile state that he had to rely on her for even basic locomotion. She was still searching for a permanent cure for Harry's issue. She had been experimenting on him using back braces charmed with temperature control enchantments that were designed to alleviate the problem but he always managed to throw them in his sleep, slipping out of them or outright tearing them. She understood now why he had always slept shirtless.

She had suspicions that a surgical thread stitched into his back with the required enchantments would fix the problem but the process would need to be repeated daily as the charms would wear off on such material with a great deal of rapidity. In the end there were no easy solutions to the problem and for the time being she would continue to support him wherever possible.

She wouldn't ever even think twice about this, she was happy to help him, for he deserved every ounce of her esteem and respect, and every bit of help she could possibly give.

-:-

Once the automaton was repaired Harry turned his gaze to his beloved who was rushing through thoughts so quickly he couldn't get a good idea of what she was thinking about, he would need to delve into her mind completely to get any idea of her mien at this point, doing so however would likely derail her thoughts and make the exercise pointless. It was a curious side effect of the bond that they had noticed, that when they were fully merged their natures averaged out somewhat, taking away their natural specialties and weaknesses and bringing them closer to an even keel. While this was sometimes beneficial, more often than not it was actually something of a hindrance. One example of this was Hermione's blindingly fast thoughts, she could do this all day long on her own, but if they merged together as one, then her thoughts would slow dramatically as Harry's own slower, more methodical thought pattern merged with her own.

Because of this quirk of the bond they often chose to remain separate, as much as being together was something of a transcendent experience they chose to take advantage of their strengths, while compensating for each other's weaknesses, without having to sacrifice both.

So it was that Harry waited patiently for Hermione to finish whatever it was she was thinking about as he simply gazed at her and took in what he saw. He had always been aware that Hermione was an attractive young woman, even in their first year he remembered commenting at one point that she was 'cute, in a pointed sort of way', that memory had garnered much teasing from her after she had spotted it last January.

Now however his soul mate had blossomed into a beautiful young woman with a sort of rough elegance that Harry truly appreciated. She was not the refined beauty of Daphne Greengrass, bred into her by aristocratic tradition, or the ethereal, magical beauty of Fleur Delacour. She was the natural, diamond in the rough, beauty of the girl next door. She had a modest bust that suited her slender frame, her hair now fell in gentle waves with the daily application of the charmed hairbrush Fleur had given her so long ago. Her eyes sparkled with emotion no matter her mood and her teeth, now straight and, to Harry, perfect, gave her a most attractive smile.

Her cheeks had a natural blush to them that was without the artifice of makeup and her skin which bronzed so easily often fell back into beautiful fair porcelain in the winter that made Harry's heart race when it was pressed against him in the moonlight. Many times he had pressed worshipful kisses to her shapely calves and thighs and feathered such gentle caresses over the backs of her hands and wrists which were delicate, though often ink stained.

In short she was an example of modest beauty, the upper end of normality, the fairest of the average, and Harry loved her for it. She was not an example of unattainable beauty, or blessed with an hourglass figure that would grace the magazines of young men's shame. She was just Hermione, and to him she was perfect.

Idly he wondered as to her thoughts; what concept was her brilliant mind mulling over? About the only academic pursuit Harry bested her in was Arithmancy in the magical world, and Mathematics in the muggle, though he was approaching her skill in runes. In all other things of the mind however she far outstripped him. If he were a jealous man he might be offended by her intelligence, or even threatened by it. But to him it was just another unique part of the young woman he had fallen in love with and he would not begrudge her, her intelligence for all the gold in Gringotts.

Truly he would rather live as a pauper with this beautiful, smart and wondrous woman by his side than as a rich man without her. It was almost unfair that he got to be both wealthy and blessed with companionship. As he watched her eyes became focussed once more and she leaned forwards to claim his lips with a chaste but emotional kiss. His arms slipped around her and she shuffled forwards into his lap for a heartfelt and soul searching embrace of arms and lips. When finally they parted he fixed her with a warm gaze and quietly thanked her for her unfailing support and love.

-:-

The rest of the train journey passed in silence as the two teens held one another in the compartment and waited for the station to come into sight. When at last it did they made their way calmly from the platform and wended their way through the holiday throngs on the muggle side of the station to find their father. The car ride back to Oxford was a quiet one of small bursts of comfortable conversation between those who are both at ease with one another and of easy companionship themselves.

When at last they reached the small Oxford townhouse and they made their way inside they were greeted by the warm embrace of Emma Granger who held them close and actually cried with happiness at seeing them again. The words that came from her mouth however were something of a shock.

"Oh I'm sorry you two, what must you think of me blubbering like this the moment I see you again, it's these pregnancy hormones I swear."

Harry's mouth dropped open and Hermione let out a rather uncharacteristic squeal as she launched herself back into her mother's embrace. Hermione's shocked question filled the room

"How?"

It was only a single word, but it was expressive, Harry and Hermione were both by now aware of why Hermione had been an only child, till now, and it was a mystery as to why it would suddenly change. Emma shot Dan a happy look and he replied somewhat sheepishly.

"Well it turns out that when we went to that school of yours and the nurse there gave us the once over when your mother had a fainting spell when you disappeared into the maze, she must have set my swimmers straight again with some of her magic because when we got home and erm… Well let's just say we were both rather surprised when your mother's monthlies didn't turn up this month."

Hermione moved passed Harry to launch herself instead into her father's arms and Harry moved back a step to let Emma passed as she joined her daughter and husband. For the first time Harry felt left out of the group, he felt like the outsider in this family, unneeded. Would this be the son they had always been wanting? Would he be pushed to the side, forgotten again? Shunned even? He tried to feel happy for them but all he felt was the crippling doubt that had been beaten into him by the only family he had known before the Grangers.

Unaware of his own actions he fled upstairs and locked himself in the bathroom before casting a silencing charm and collapsing against the wall, desperately trying to steady his now frantic breathing.

He had no idea how long he sat there in the darkness, his knees clutched to his chest and his breathing rapidly approaching hyper ventilation, before a pair of soft arms wrapped around him and held him firmly. It was not Hermione, her embrace was somewhat more familiar, but this one was just as earnest.

"We will always love you Harry. Never, ever doubt that."

He raised his head to look into the concerned gaze of his adoptive mother, her eyes shining with supressed tears. Suddenly Harry felt awful, he hadn't so much as congratulated them on having a new child, especially when they had both been resigned to that never being a possibility. This was as much a Christmas Miracle as he was ever likely to witness and he had spat all over it with his jealousy.

And even then his thoughts were shunted aside, filled instead by Hermione's concern as she finally fought passed the blocks he had accidentally erected between them. She reassured him in her own way that what he was feeling was not his own fault. It was an appropriate psychological reaction from someone with his upbringing and none of the Grangers blamed him for it.

He hugged Emma back then, taking from her the comfort she was offering and, quietly, expressing his happiness that she was pregnant. It was genuine too, now that his panic had passed and the built in reaction had faded, he truly was happy for them.

That night one of the scars of his past healed, it was not a physical scar, but it was present nonetheless. Never again would Harry fear abandonment. And when John Morris Granger joined the world and the Granger family had a son of their own blood, he would be a younger brother to Harry, and for all intents and purposes, Harry would remain their oldest son.

-:-

AN3: This chapter was awkward to write, not necessarily hard, but it required multiple rewrites to make sure the information was correct, and even then I had to resort to an author's note below. That and debating whether to have the regiment form now or after the Christmas break took up a lot of my deliberation and writing time. For once the lateness of this chapter can be entirely attributed to its own merits and not my laziness. It's still bloody annoying that it's late though. As a final note I did mention in the last chapter that this one would expand more on Umbridge's past, although there was nothing overt we did touch briefly on something important though it's hidden. (If not very well)

AN4: WARNING: MATHS AHEAD. Skip this if you hate mathematics

The explanation of soul power was slightly awkward to translate into words, so for the sake of clarity here's the tree diagram

24 - Total bond value

4 | 4 - Each pair of souls in the bond

1 1 | 1 1 - Individual souls in the bond

Each tier of the tree is equal to double the sum of all the tiers below it, for example here's a three tier tree:

144 - Total bond value

24 | 24 - Total value of all the pairs

4 | 4 | 4 | 4 - Value of all the pairs individually

1 1 | 1 1 | 1 1 | 1 1 - Value of each soul

Here we can see that not only do the souls themselves pair up but the pairs of souls pair up as well bonds with an odd number of souls or pairs look like this:

30

4 | 4 | 2

1 1 | 1 1 | 1

Dramatically less powerful than it would be with another three souls. For the direct example of Harry and Hermione we're going to have to use a bit of algebra. The average person's power will be represented by 'S', Harry is about four times as powerful individually as the average witch or wizard, and Hermione about double, making their individual values 4S and 2S respectively, in which case their power levels in the bond would be about 12S (2(4S+2S)) or twelve times as powerful as the average witch or wizard, for those wondering on his own Dumbledore is about 8S in this story, and Tom Riddle (I.e. before the crazy shenanigans that made him what he is) was about 6S, and for those who are super curious when Fleur bonded to Harry briefly the total power Harry had at his command in the graveyard was the total value of Harry's bond with Hermione, plus his own bond with Fleur, where Fleur is about average, that total would be about 66S (I.e. Harry's bond with Hermione (12S) plus Harry's bond with Fleur ((2(4S+S))=10S) for a total of 22S, plus the total value of each of their souls (11S) for a total of 33S which is then doubled to 66S, or sixty six times as powerful as the average witch or wizard, and Harry was only _just_ drawing even with Voldemort. Even though there are only three souls involved, this is still different from a normal bond of three people together, because it is actually two different bonds being formed, and Harry had access to both of them. Curiously actually would have ended up more efficient than if they had bonded together as a whole. Weird how maths works.

For those interested in a straight up formula it would be (2(a+b) for a 2 soul bond where 'a' and 'b' are the values of the individual souls, for a four soul bond it would be (2((2(a+b))+(2(c+d)) + (a+b+c+d))) God almighty that is a lot of brackets. Enterprising individuals would not have to try too hard to come up with formulae for larger bonds or bonds with odd numbers, I whipped these up on the spot.

AN5: Review Responses

Jkarr: Thanks for your review!

Shadow Dragon: Harry's personal power levels are a mixture between his personal fitness and awkwardly enough, good genes. The collective power between him and Hermione should now be obvious, especially if you read the Author's note above. As for Dark/Light Magic I'm not sure. I grew up with a roleplaying background and, as such, the idea that 'dark' magic is inherently evil is ingrained into me, that said Harry hasn't really learned anything particularly 'light' yet either. I need to deliberate with myself on this further. As for animagus after the war? Absolutely, there's no reason for them not to when they have nothing but time on their hands. One could argue that instead of tinkering Harry could be working on the transformation, but Harry uses that time as stress relief, and I highly doubt that learning how to force your body into another shape would be anything but stressful. Anyhoo thanks for your review, and as always feel free to PM me if you have other questions or ideas.

Vegasman: Thanks, appreciated!

IcySneasel: While I don't absolutely loath the stories where Harry is practically God Mode embodied they aren't my cup of tea to write, and more than that they're typically smut stories, which I'm pretty sure people have figured out this isn't. As for Umbridge she's sort of like Moody for me, a side character who never really got developed enough. In canon Moody has something like twenty lines of text, (I don't count fake Moody), and when he dies I felt less sad than I should have. And Umbridge as I have previously stated is something of a disappointment in canon. I fully intend to reinvent both of them.

Dragonmistressofredemption: Epine is in fact going to be a pain in the ass, 100% confirmed 2014. As for Umbridge's motives? I think I can probably confirm that she has ulterior motives, most people should be able to figure that out anyway, but I'll also say that they could have serious consequences if her motives _aren't_ fulfilled.

Beyondthesea: Poor Fleur indeed, I often loath myself for what I'm doing in regards to her with this story. But I can confirm that she has, if not a happy ending, then at least a less painful one.

Deathday Party: Firstly, awesome name. 10/10 would read again. Secondly, I always reply to my reviews if at all possible, I'd like to take a moment to thank you for your review on 'World of Deceit' as well, it legitimately made my day. The idea of someone recommending my story to someone else makes me more than a little giddy. Finally, thanks for your words of encouragement and praise, there's very little for me to respond to in the reviews themselves except to thank you for the time you took in reviewing, they really are wonderful to read.

Firewolfe: Of course Fleur hasn't had a lot of choice, that's why her storyline is so damn tragic. I've deliberately made her storyline a heart plucker, mostly just to see if I could, but also for the same reasons I killed Ron off in like, the fourth chapter, it's just one more think Harry has to motivate him to slaughter Voldemort and Valmortis like the rotten swine they are.

Alright Folks that's it for another chapter, I hope I didn't break too many brains with this one. As always, thanks for reading and other Shenanigans, seeing that views counter tick up each morning really is the best feeling in the world. As a side note recently 'World of Deceit' ticked over 250,000 views which is frankly a staggering achievement for me and I'd like to thank everyone who's contributed to that number. It's a bit over ten thousand views a chapter, which when you think about it is on average ten thousand people who've read fully through the story, which is really, really, really cool.

Tune in next time for Chapter Nine: Cold, where some of Harry's mistakes come home to roost and Valmortis lashes out at the wizarding world in the hopes of freeing up some of Voldemort's resources. See you next time!

LGreymark

Footnote: Ugh, this time it was the word "Soul" that was used a hundred times, gahhhh


	9. Cold

AN: *Insert huffy disclaimer here*

AN2: The start of this chapter has fairly graphic images of violence and gore, you've been warned.

-:-

Chapter Nine: Cold

The middle of London was always bustling around Christmas time with holiday shopping going on at the last minute. Throngs of people braved the icy weather and harsh snow filled streets to get that last vital gift for their children or spouse. And it was in the middle of London that Valmortis struck.

The first indication that anything was wrong was the sudden staccato cracks echoing around Piccadilly Circus. Figures in black robes materialized out of the sleet filled air and a sonorous chant was taken up in an eerie monotone. One of the chanters was knocked over by a startled shopper and without warning it lashed out.

Bright purple light flared out from the figure and the offending bystander seemed to stiffen for a second before with a mighty bang, that punctured the eardrums of the shoppers for dozens of meters in every direction, the poor man exploded messily, shards of bone flying in every direction, puncturing muscles and one poor woman took a shard through her eye that killed her instantly.

That's when the panic started. Shoppers fled in all directions only to find themselves hemmed in on all sides by more black robed chanters. Too afraid to go near them the crowd hemmed and hawed for a moment on the icy ground. People were shrieking and crying in fear, harsh yells of panic rent the frosty air and for a handful of seconds, a balance was struck.

Then the people in the centre of the mob pushed out panicked in their closed environs and those on the edge of the mob were forced into contact with more robed chanters. Several were knocked over, only to lash out with more horrific curses, one woman's skin melted away in an instant and her internal organs slithered to the street with a sickening squelch that could just barely be heard in the close vicinity.

Another woman, and two men, all died with their limbs collapsing upon themselves and vanishing from existence, followed by the rest of their bodies. Nothing would be left of those poor souls. Left and right people were being butchered; shoved to their fate by the panicked central mass of the mob forcing its way outwards away from the crushing confines it had been forced into. Then, when things didn't seem like they could get any worse, the chanting stopped, and something far more terrible arrived.

A grim shade of darkness fell upon the Circus and with a rattling moan the thirty one figures forming a great circle dissolved into a sickening black dust that poured into the centre of the circle. The crowd, if possible, became more violent in its attempts to escape and many were trampled underfoot as a veritable stampede broke out and screams of terror rent the air.

The oily black dust was sucked into an ever growing sphere on top of the statue of Eros that pulsed once with a sickening black light before detonating outwards throwing the shoppers to the ground face first in many cases. The statue shattered down its vertical faces and exploded outwards from the sheer force of the detonation above it, rubble flew in all directions and a crater formed in the centre of Piccadilly Circus. A dark sinister fog filled that crater for a few seconds before it rapidly coalesced into a humanoid form that stood a staunch two and a half meters high: wings of ebon fog stretching high into the sky before stretching out to the sides in a menacing posture, arms corded with rippling muscles and two multi jointed legs planted firmly on the ground. Its black maw opened, framed by curled ram's horns. It stretched to its full height and then flapped its wings once before the whole creature was bursting into wicked flames and from its abyssal throat came a terrifying voice layered with demonic overtones. The voice was like a choir, thundering in its volume that shattered the windows of nearby cars and businesses, the distinct sounds of over thirty different men and women could be heard within that horrific vocalization and the words it bellowed belied an even greater evil.

"_We are LEGION! Hear our voices and despair!"_

-:-

A scant ten kilometres from the event horizon the Ministry for Magic's Auror Headquarters was scrambling for a response team big enough to respond to the level of magical disturbance, shouts were ringing across the offices and the clamour of wizard boots could be heard up and down the corridors as dragon hide armoured shock response teams rushed to the staging platforms in the centre of the circular department.

"Level Merlin Omega Class necromantic disturbance!"

"Eighty muggle fatalities, unknown total casualties on site!"

"Code nine breach of the statute of secrecy! Code nine!"

"Cardiff and Edinburgh reporting identical signatures!"

"Auror response team's eleven through twenty four…"

"Call in Dumbledore!"

"Where the fuck is Amelia?"

"We've got wounded coming into St Mungo's!"

"Targets have been classified, three Liches…"

-:-

It was into this madhouse that junior Auror Nymphadora Tonks was shoved as she apparated into the locker rooms' apparition point. The noise was deafening as she did her best to rapidly change from her clothes to her battle gear. You couldn't charm it on to you because it was so heavily warded against magical interaction of any kind and Tonks fumbled the strap on her chest plate for a second before it finally snapped into place. Her breath was already coming in short gasps as she gripped her wand in one shaking hand. The moment her armour had been donned she was shoved into the queue of Aurors waiting for the staging points. A sticker was slapped onto her wrist as she moved past a checkpoint in the maelstrom of bodies and she glanced down at it and audibly gulped.

'Piccadilly Circus'

She looked around frantically for her disembarkation squad and was relieved to see all bar one of them in the immediate vicinity. She flashed her sticker and they responded, the large block print telling her they were all in this together. Her feet touched onto the staging platform and with a strange tug behind her navel Tonks was yanked along by the portkey stuck to her wrist for all of a second before her feet slammed down in a side street. What she saw made her blood run cold.

A monstrous flaming mass in the middle of the sleet filled square was laying waste to all it could reach with hand and spell. Great gouts of magical energy were leaping from its hands like lobbed grenades to land explosively among the still fleeing muggles. It loosed a shapeless roar and Tonks through only sheer force of will stopped from soiling herself as her training kicked in and she sprinted forwards alongside her squad mates.

Auror shock teams were already firing spells at the colossal entity and Tonks added her not inconsiderable might to the fray, junior auror she may be, but the job still had a minimum standard. Lances of light flickered out from all sides of the square and speared into the Lich as it rampaged closer and closer to the main auror line. Tonks' eyes widened as the undead monstrosity shrugged off the spell fire like so many bb pellets and, after a brief pause to gather effort, charged into the auror ranks.

A whole bloc of Aurors spot apparated behind the lich even as it ran headfirst into a wave of spell fire; it was a standard tactic with large creatures. Overwhelm them with numbers and superior manoeuvrability while maintaining a constant barrage of spells.

It would have been great normally, but Liches have magic too. Apparently aware of the plight it was facing the Lich immediately changed tactics and began casting rapid fire beams of light-defying energy that seemed to decimate the very atoms from what they touched: disintegrating holes through Aurors and muggles alike, cleanly and efficiently.

A thunderclap sounded in the square and Tonks looked over the shoulder of the Auror she was behind to see a most welcome sight. An unspeakable wearing a long blue overcoat had apparated directly into the square, backup had arrived.

-:-

Victoria Umbridge took her bearings in a moment when she landed, the frigid air in London was nothing compared to the bitter winds in Scotland where she had apparated from and it felt almost warm by comparison. She had apparated to a designated embarkation point that had been warded upon arrival by one of the auror squad leaders. The embarkation points were essentially homing beacons designed to attract apparating individuals and incoming portkeys. They also had mild compulsion wards thrown up around them that encouraged people to keep the area clear so as not to be splattered by incoming travellers.

That didn't mean it was always safe to be there however. Upon apparating in Umbridge immediately had to dive to the side as a lance of magical energy flared through the point where her body had been only a moment earlier. She fell into a roll and rose to her feet, wand sparking slightly in her hand.

Devouring the vampires' souls as they had died in the classroom weeks ago had slowly recuperated some of her magical energy. It was only a small portion of her total power but more than enough to keep her fuelled for this fight, and probably the one in Wales too. Dumbledore had offered to handle Scotland and then meet her in Wales in case she needed backup. It was more than appreciated.

The lich in front of her was a fine specimen, well defined and clearly brimming with energy. This creature was powerful, and was the coalition of a great many souls. Absorbing its power would keep her strength up for months to come. She moved forwards rapidly, seeking to meet the undead midway through its assault before it could wreak any more havoc among the Auror ranks or the fleeing muggles. Quickly Umbridge ran through her mind the relevant information about Liches, it was a pre-fight ritual she engaged in with every new adversary.

Liches were unique in the realms of the undead in that they forced ectoplasm to become corporeal to contain their powerful forms; they were often described as walking the line between physical and incorporeal. When ectoplasm becomes solid it more or less becomes pure carbon. But instead of remaining carbon it tends to burn off at a prodigious rate because of the heat caused by ripping ectoplasm into the physical realm turning back into ectoplasm, only for it to be forced back into the physical world once more whereupon it would catch alight under the intense heat that such a transition brought with it.

They were initially thought to be demons from the burning hells because of their somewhat terrifying appearance. Medieval missionaries from Rome encountering these undead for the first time in central Europe based the Catholic depiction of demons upon them and the image has been burned into muggle minds for generations.

The fact that the creatures were essentially a gigantic combustion cycle lent some simple, yet esoteric ways of dealing with them. Umbridge raised her wand and with a tight flick and curve used sorcery to remove energy from the air around the Lich, cooling it rapidly in the already freezing square. The result of this was that Victoria siphoned off the energy that would become ectoplasm before it could dissipate from the physical realm. Without ectoplasm in its incorporeal state to suck back into the physical realm to fuel the Lich's body, it would quickly burn itself out.

The results were immediately obvious as the Lich became sluggish, its bastardized magical core trying to pump more energy into the air around itself to maintain the reaction that kept it alive. Power flowed from the undead like water through a sieve and Victoria siphoned it all, bolstering her flagging energy reserves with the prodigious creature's own magic.

Enraged at its own sluggishness the Lich turned to face Umbridge, correctly divining that she was the source of its frustration. But it did not get to retaliate. Lances of magic speared out from the auror ranks again and the Lich pitched on the spot, lurching from the impact as graphite dust from the core of the undead exploded violently upon reaching the flames.

A great gaping wound in the creature's chest became apparent after the explosion had run its course, though the wound was quickly filling in. Umbridge cursed slightly, while she was draining it at a steady rate she could maintain the charm for hours, not that hours would have been needed. But with the sudden spike of energy from the explosion her magical buffers were temporarily full and she had to abandon the charm lest she over charge herself and meet a grisly end.

She decided instead to strike back directly. Firing bludgeoning hexes into the creature's midriff, hoping to widen the already closing wound. Her hope would be realized as the Lich exploded in a cataclysm of flame. It was not enough though; the creature's body began to reform from the air as more ectoplasm was forced into the physical world from whatever dimension it existed in naturally.

It was a horrific sight to behold as this monstrosity of black flame pulled itself together and resumed its implacable march forwards under the constant barrage of curses and sorcels being thrown at it. Victoria gritted her teeth, this monstrosity had a titanic number of souls fuelling its power and she had no idea just how much wearing down it would take to destroy it. She needed to banish this thing conventionally, or they would be here all day.

Her hands came up in front of her, one palm facing towards the beast, the other fist clenched and facing the ground. It was the traditional starting point for many archaic rituals, this one no different. What happened next however was somewhat uncommon, the banishing ritual for Liches had been lost to the sands of Egypt and few still knew of its nature.

Her hands snapped out to the sides and a single syllable rolled from her lips, laden with magical power. This was old magic, and the very sound of it rattled the bones of those within hearing.

"_Forj"_

The creature stumbled slightly, one of its feet sinking into the ground with an inevitable force. Victoria's hands split, the open palm of her left hand circling down to face the ground, the closed fist pointing to the sky. Another word of power was gritted from between her teeth, the effort of pronouncing the ancient magic was physically draining.

"_Val"_

The Lich's other foot began sinking and it let out a hideous scream of rage as it divined its own fate. Before it could retaliate Victoria's hands came together, one clasped within the other and her feet left the ground, her magic levitating her out of the way of what was to come. Her hair whipped around her and the third word of power ripped from her in a scream, this one hurt.

"_Mak"_

Blackness opened up beneath the Lich, a circle of nothing, that defied any attempt to identify it. It had a terrible pull, as if the very void of space was sucking the Lich down, and the winds and snow around the event horizon began to stream into the nothingness, only to vanish. With visible strain the Unspeakable began pushing her hands out from her body, as if forcing against some colossal spring. The forth syllable came out in a harsh growl as the primeval magics wrought her emotions as they pleased.

"_Rei"_

The Lich was now up to its knees and was desperately reaching for anything it could grip on to. A couple of times it tried to cast its own brand of magic at those around, the aurors were watching in awe, but it's attacks merely were diverted down into the abyss below. Victoria could feel her strength nearly spent, but she only had to finish the incantation to end this.

Her head snapped back as a foreign entity invaded her mind, a gigantic alien entity that shoved her thoughts aside and took control of her without effort. It provided the needed power, just as it always had. Her hands moved of their own accord, moving back into the starting posture of one palm, her left, facing outwards, and her closed fist facing down. The last syllable rolled from her lips charged with power and positively quaking with portents.

"_Ahn!"_

The air shook for a moment and then a shockwave ripped out, flattening the surrounding aurors and tossing Victoria from the air to deposit her on the cobbles some twenty meters away. The Lich gripped the edge of reality for a moment before it was abruptly yanked down into the morass and the blackness closed behind it, snapping shut like the lid of a wooden box.

Inside Victoria's mind the entity vanished and she felt power rushing back into her limbs, power she desperately needed if she were to contain the events happening elsewhere in the country. She rose to her feet, stiff from sudden cold, and looked around. Auror's were getting to their feet all around her and she raised her wand skywards once more. The amount of magic discharged here would have shorted out all of the muggle's recording equipment that tried to assess the scene. But the Auror's would remember what had happened here.

"_OBLIVIATE!"_

-:-

'Special report for the eyes of the Minister for Magic ONLY

24th December 1997

Today at eleven fifteen this morning three simultaneous terror strikes targeted major civilian centres in England, Scotland and Wales, post encounter reports from the Unspeakables suggest thirty one sacrifices were involved in each ritual. These events caused a Level Merlin Omega alarm that initiated the Auror immediate response division; Albus Dumbledore and Special Operative Unspeakable Umbridge were on the scene within minutes to contain the event.

Final casualties are still coming in but early estimates suggest dead numbering in the hundreds and wounded even more so. Estimated fifteen thousand families affected by the event either directly or indirectly.

Careful monitoring of Muggle telecommunications and television networks has confirmed that the breach of the statute of secrecy has been contained; wizarding sleeper agents inside the IRA have claimed responsibility for the attacks and the Muggle press is unaware of the significance of the true severity of the situation and what could have occurred. For the time being the ICW is adopting a wait and see approach and we have been given free reign over the situation so long as it does not escalate…'

Amelia bones tossed the report to her desk in disgust. She had pushed through massive sweeping reforms in the wake of the public's fear of Voldemort's return but it wasn't enough, she had crippled his traditional follower base but somehow that fanatical tyrant had rustled up ninety three sycophantic volunteers for this attack.

She leaned forwards towards her desk, head cradled in both hands, not a month in office and she already had the blood of hundreds on her hands. The worst thing was, she doubted that the attacks would stop here. Glancing at the clock and then at her letter parchment she reached for a sheet. She needed to write a letter.

-:-

"_Just this morning three massive explosions could be heard in the middle of London, Edinburgh and Cardiff. Emergency services have reached the centre of the disturbance and a veritable charnel house has been found with the dead strewn about Piccadilly Circus, Edinburgh Park and Culverhouse Cross. Early estimates of casualties are in the mid hundreds as the blasts caught holiday shoppers in the early morning trade hours in the holiday period._

_The IRA has already claimed responsibility for the attacks and this reporter wonders if British Military actions in Ireland have provoked these vicious attacks of terror…"_

The television in the Granger's living room muted suddenly and Hermione dashed into her father's arms. The family had finished their holiday shopping the day before and Harry felt like they had dodged the proverbial bullet as the camera crews panned over what looked like a war torn London, thought it was hard to tell with such a crackly image, for whatever reason there was a lot of distortion in the video feed.

Something caught Harry's eye and he tried to get a closer look but the camera panned past. He waited patiently even as Emma came and wrapped him in a tender hug which he returned with equal affection. As the camera panned back he took a closer look and growled in the back of his throat. A muggle would discount it as residual smoke but there were still wisps of necromancy around the crater in Piccadilly Circus, that coupled with the camera distortion led him to one conclusion;` this wasn't an IRA bombing, this was the work of Valmortis, or Voldemort.

Hermione glanced over at him and they locked eyes, Hermione's somewhat tearful at the shock of it all, and a stream of thoughts passed between them. After a moment Harry stood, gently disentangling from Emma who, along with her husband, looked confused.

"This was a magical terror attack; even on the television I can spot residual traces of necromancy though it looks like the ministry has done a decent cover up. I need to send a letter to Dumbledore."

The Granger parents looked at each other with a somewhat distressed expression. The thought between them was clear to all in the room.

"Was anywhere safe anymore?"

-:-

Harry had woken up that morning in delightful warm bliss; Hermione had apparently anticipated his infirmity acting up in the colder weather and had moved him to the bath to warm him up even before he woke. It was one of the single most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for him and he loved her even more for it.

He had ended up downstairs in the familiar environs of the family's relaxation arrangement, Emma and Dan curled up together on the loveseat and Harry and Hermione lying sideways on the couch with Hermione nestled under Harry's chin and left arm as it wrapped around her midriff. The morning had progressed calmly enough after breakfast had been eaten and the family had settled down for a bit of relaxation and quiet conversation in front of the television. But things had quickly soured with the morning news report that had obliterated all semblance of a relaxing morning with the news of yet another attack.

Now here was harry, on Christmas eve morning writing a letter to his headmaster hoping for more information on what he, harry, had guessed to be a wizarding terror attack. Privately Harry suspected Valmortis' involvement, necromancy was more his style than Voldemort's as far as Harry could tell. From everything he had heard Voldemort tended to bolster his ranks with magical creatures, live ones, like dementors and giants, rather than utilising the dead.

The strategies used by Voldemort and his lieutenant were very different but Harry could not honestly say he could prefer one over the other. Both, after all, were designed to cause maximum terror in the population.

Hedwig was more than happy to take wing with the letter clamped firmly between the halves of her beak. Harry leaned against the window sill and was startled at his raw emotion over the event. He was angry, furious even; that all of this was happening and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Here he was, out of the public eye, relaxing with his adopted family and his soul mate while people were being slaughtered simply by merit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It galled him to have to let Valmortis have his head here, for there was naught that he could do.

And he knew it.

-:-

Hermione was a bundle of emotions, relief that they hadn't been shopping that day, sadness for those who had lost their lives, worry over Harry's declaration, helplessness over her inability to aid those in need, anger at the callousness and hate displayed by those on the other side of the war. She was sure that some of Harry's emotions were bleeding over to her, though his dominating emotion at the time was rage.

Rarely did Hermione see Harry in such a state, he was famously slow to anger, preferring to get even than get mad, only a scant few times had she seen his anger truly aroused, and this was one of the worst times she had ever seen. Quietly she was thankful that he was such a noble soul, his anger was righteous, directed, focused, if he had been any less a man she would have feared for her own safety such was his ire.

Carefully she probed the bond and isolated the root cause of his anger, and there it was, sure enough he was angry at his own inability to help others, he was angry at being forcefully side-lined while people were fighting for their lives. Carefully she extracted the core of his anger and calmed it, directed it towards more productive pursuits, like bettering himself through training or knowledge so that when it did come to be time to fight, he would be unstoppable.

Hermione had asked for, and received, detailed texts from Professor Umbridge on the nature of soul bonds and the way magical potency was calculated. Along with Lily's journal which was surprisingly laden with references to soul magic Hermione was accumulating a variety of methods by which they, that being Harry and herself, could match, or even overmatch, the forces arrayed against them. The first thing they needed to do was access better magical foci; their wands were pedestrian at best, students' wands. They needed wands similar to what Professor Umbridge had, a battle wand.

Typically speaking wands were about as powerful as the magical creature the material came from, phoenix feathers and dragon heartstrings were common and powerful, especially in Ollivander wands. But they had limits, what they really needed were human heartstrings.

It was a decidedly morbid topic really, the idea of crafting a wand that had muscle fibre from a human heart inside it. But in reality it wasn't that uncommon, or strange. Humans after all were magical creatures, the most powerful of living magical creatures in fact. However one did not typically take the heartstring from another human; instead a ritual would be performed where one would extract a heartstring of one's own to core their wand. But Hermione had theorized that if she and Harry had a wand with one another's heartstrings in them, then they could magnify the power of their bond by a factor even as high as nine: Though that would only occur later in life when they were significantly more powerful in their own right.

She hadn't noticed but she had meandered upstairs amidst her thoughts and was now ensconced in Harry's arms, comfortably relaxing against his chest as they sat in the window seat of their room and looked out onto the snowy grass behind the house. She tilted her head up and nuzzled at his jawbone with her cheek. It was a decidedly feline gesture but it was one she enjoyed, the sensation of his stubble brushing against her sensitive cheeks was heavenly, and she knew Harry enjoyed her being so touchy.

She was rewarded with a husky moan as his lips dipped to her throat and she gasped as he kissed her pulse point, threatening to suck. She could feel the tension rolling from him in waves, it was always the way with Harry, caged behind safety he would pace and stamp like a bull enclosed in paling, building tension within himself. Often times that tension released sexually with her, but this was not the time, she wasn't sure she could muster the mood required for such activities and she gently warded him off with her mind.

Instead she turned and pressed a chaste, but loving, kiss against his jawbone, once more enjoying the feeling of his stubble on her sensitive skin. She kissed him again, lips trailing towards his, her hand going around behind his head to hold him in place gently as she approached her goal.

Aroused she might not be, but Hermione Granger would not turn down the chance to kiss her man, and Harry knew it. His hands went around her hips and held the small of her back intimately as his rough and somewhat dry lips pressed to hers firmly and with love. She felt it roiling off him in waves that filled the air around her with his musk. She was certain that he had a latent talent to make those around him feel his emotions; even before the bond she had always noticed his moods. That said she was particularly well attuned to him.

They stayed liked like that for a few moments, celebrating life with one another before relaxing in the pale light reflecting off the snow that was streaming through the window on the frigid day. Eventually Hermione nudged Harry's mind and suggested her ideas about the wands, she got tentative agreement from him and pushed more information about the ritual across the bond. He seemed hesitant about the implications of using human organs in their wands and what physical side effects could come from tampering with their own hearts.

She couldn't say she really blamed him, it _was_ a rather distasteful concept and she wasn't totally sure about the side effects that could come from the kind of ritual that could involve. They would have to talk to Dumbledore and Umbridge, maybe even Ollivander if they could find the time to do so.

There was little they could do with the snow falling in the streets however and she settled back into his arms to enjoy the chill morning beauty for a few more minutes. It was short-lived however as soon they were called down to talk by Emma and Dan.

-:-

Hermione hugged Harry to her side as they sat down, unwilling to let him leave physical contact after their emotionally charged moment. Dan fixed her with a worried look, Emma seemed to be giving the same to Harry.

"How do we avoid being victims of something like this happening?"

It was her father who had spoken, he looked rattled, scared even, more so than she had ever seen him before. That, more than anything gave her chills. Daniel Granger had been in a war, a bone fide war, and had lived through it. She didn't know anyone alive, bar maybe her Harry, who was as steadfast and brave, and here he was, obviously worried to leave his own home. Honestly it broke her heart.

Harry's hand squeezed hers firmly and he did his best to answer.

"Off the top of my head I have no idea, your lively hood revolves around you going elsewhere to work, you'd need to go shopping weekly, or for other odds and ends, there's no real way to avoid being out of the house, where you are quite safe. The best way to deal with the problem would be to minimise risk I think, don't go to the same super market the same week in a row, and try not to fall into a pattern. Take the back roads to work in the morning, and when you come home. Try to avoid main shopping centres or other public venues as much as possible. I'll ask Dumbledore more about it when next I get the chance, likely when Hedwig returns with the reply to my letter to him.

For the rest of the holidays at least though I think we should be safe. I'm not sure what was summoned in Piccadilly, but it was big to have caused that much chaos. And what sound like two identical or near identical attacks happened in other parts of the island, he lost a lot of resources today, and Valmortis, of Voldemort, whichever it is that's making these attacks, won't be able to do so again for some time. Again, hopefully I'll get more details in the next few hours to share."

Hermione couldn't help but feel rather proud of her young man. He had come a long way from the somewhat timid and broken boy who had fled to her home in the summer holidays for asylum and the hope of some happiness. He was growing into a powerful and decisive leader who knew how to assess a situation. She was sure he would only get more confident and skilled as time went on, ultimately though the thing that she was most proud of was his demeanour. She could feel the worry rushing through him like a toxin but he sounded calm and collected, intending to keep their parents calm.

"We should be okay here for a few more days at the very least. Worst comes to the worst we get the Order to organise food deliveries and we all lay low until the war is over, but I hope it doesn't come to that, if it does we'll be in deep cactus."

Harry shot her an amused look

"Deep cactus? Really?" Echoed through her mind

She blushed slightly

"You know how I feel about swearing."

Harry's amused look deepened and he sent her a memory of her own voice swearing encouragements to him in a rather passionate tone. Her blush deepened and she heard laughter from their parents. Turning she found Emma leaning heavily on the chair her husband was sitting in and hugging one arm to her stomach as she laughed, Dan was in the process of slapping his knee and had his head thrown back, roaring away.

That accursed blush.

It was obvious what they were laughing at, Hermione _never_ blushed. It came into the same category as giggling and on the rare occasions when it happened it was usually because of something truly smutty brought up in casual conversation. That meant that her parents were probably imagining the conversation going on in her bond with Harry and they probably knew _exactly_ what the subject matter was.

She leaned forwards and buried her face in her hands as Harry massaged her shoulder lightly with one hand while he chuckled away. She wouldn't trade her family for anything, but did they insist on taking a mile when given an inch?

-:-

Christmas day was uneventful for the most part. News stories and debates over the purpose of the bombing were depressing to watch. It was amazing how clueless the rest of the muggle world was to what was all around them. Fortunately the television was mostly occupied by typical Christmas day programs and even then, Harry and Hermione barely watched the TV. Sirius and Remus arrived later in the day after sending a letter beforehand, partly to spend the holiday with Harry and his family, and partly to deliver Dumbledore's reply to Harry's letter, which was deemed too sensitive for owl post.

The letter itself was somewhat concise, barely fifteen lines. But it held within that sparse wasteland of text, a wealth of valuable information, much in the same way that priceless diamonds rest beneath the desolate sands of Africa.

It told them of the nature by which the attacks had happened, the summoning and subsequent banishment of the undead, more to the point it mentioned that Umbridge had been on the scene as well as Dumbledore himself. Few more details were given however, but it was enough for Harry and Hermione to know more or less what had happened, and that an immediate meeting of the order had been called. He and Hermione would have attended but due to the snow and nature of the roads it was impossible to transport them securely and information would be given to them at the soonest possible time.

There was little more for them to do than settle in and wait.

-:-

The news that reached them the next day was less than helpful, nothing conclusive had been decided by the Order that Harry and Hermione needed to be appraised of, especially as they weren't official members by their own decisions. In the last few days of the holidays it was decided that there was something for them to know however, and quite out of the blue Tonks arrived at the Granger's Oxford home.

They made the somewhat rapid journey back to headquarters courtesy of the time travelling car and were immediately ushered up into the training room where Moody sat them down with a grimace.

"I've been arguing with Albus day in and day out for a month about this, you two have needed to learn about it for quite some time but the old codger has been resistant. Last night he finally caved. What do you two know about power expanding restrictors and words of power?"

Harry and Hermione both shook their heads calmly but in their minds they were buzzing with excitement, this sounded important.

"Nothing sir"

Moody's gruff grunt was about as much as they had come to expect from him by way of reply, soon though he expanded on his monosyllabic answer. 

"You two are powerful, between you you've done some incredible things, and either of you when drawing on your bond's power can overwhelm Albus or myself in sheer strength, if not skill and speed, though you're still having trouble keeping up with the geezer."

Both Harry and Hermione grinned at Mad Eye's name for the ancient wizard, clearly whatever this was the argument had been spectacular.

"But Tom is stronger, Umbridge has covered soul bonds in class with you and power levels, this is related, I'm not cleared to give you the details as to how, or really what, but Riddle has used a variety of methods to greatly amplify his power, it's one of the reasons he can maintain the Tempus Personae's drain on his magic."

He turned abruptly and began pacing, this was not out of character for the retired auror, once he had mentioned that it eased the pain from his false leg.

"So how do we give you two the power to contest him? Because mark you my words, that's what this is going to come down to, not politics or armies, it's going to come down to you and him in a contest of raw strength, it always does with his type. That's the problem we're facing here, fortunately there is a solution: Power expanding limiters."

Harry glanced sideways at Hermione and was amused to see her nearly off her seat with excitement, rarely did he see her like this anymore, as bonding with him had tempered her natural over eagerness for information, but this was something profound and he wouldn't take her excitement away from her. In the back of his mind he felt her gratitude rushing through him for his thoughts.

"The premise is that your souls are the main limits to your magical growth, and because it's impossible for us to manipulate the soul, we have to get around it somehow. That's where limiters come in, the name is actually a misnomer, they don't actually limit your magic, and rather they limit the rate at which your magic can renew itself. Let's say we apply a single limit to your powers, roughly halving them at the time of casting.

From that point onwards your souls will begin to split their power, giving you magic at about half the normal rate, but also filling up a reservoir with the other half of that power that would normally be going nowhere. Once that reservoir is full, and we can teach you how to detect this, you can temporarily drop the limitations and gain access to not only your own power, but all the power stashed away in those reservoirs, doubling your strength for a short period of time.

Once they're empty the limiters will automatically snap back into place to fill them up again. This sounds great in theory but the problem is that it's addictive, once you've dropped the limiter once, and felt all that raw power at your disposal, you'll want more, you'll want more limiters in place so that you can access even more of that power in ever increasing amounts. The issue is that each subsequent casting will half the amount of power you have available to you normally."

Hermione butted in in her typical manner

"Well that's easily fixed, just cast it on us once, and don't tell us the incantation, surely having double the strength would be worth it when we really need it."

Moody frowned at her slightly

"Sure, that would be fine, except you'd both have to cast the spell on yourselves."

"Oh"

The grunt Hermione got in affirmation was somewhat dry and the room fell silent as Harry and Hermione contemplated this new option to them.

-:-

Harry was bewildered by the idea, it was so alien to him to want to portion off a part of his power for use later, and honestly it scared him a little. Hermione had touched on the fact a few times as she had sifted through his memories; But like most teens Harry had an addictive personality. It was most apparent in his relationship with her, he would experience something he enjoyed, and he would want more of it, crave it even, fortunately his iron clad will was capable of preventing those urges from actually manifesting, but he doubted he would be so strong in the face of such power.

Hermione soothed his racing thoughts with a sweep of her mind and he let himself be bathed in her affection as she calmed him. Her cool logic flowing through his mind with pros and cons. The pros were obvious, with some care they could double, triple, or even quadruple their power. But each increase would result in a massive weakening of their ability to sustain their magic, and their carefully trained stamina would take a massive hit, Hermione's more than Harry's as, for whatever reason, she was somewhat less inclined towards endurance than he.

The cons were blatant, with the aforementioned loss of stamina and readily available power would also come the chance of an addiction that could be a very real threat to their livelihoods. In the end they both agreed that the risk was too great, this was far too dangerous for them to try, as a last resort maybe this would be applicable, but even then they had to live after the war as well, and such an addiction could follow them for the rest of their lives. Worse it would be totally irreversible.

There was really only one decision to make.

-:-

Alastor couldn't help but be nervous, this was a gamble that he had argued with Albus about for months, the issue was that either Harry or Hermione, more likely Hermione, would stumble across this ritual eventually anyway, and there would be a chance that they would cast it without knowing the implications and side effects. He was hoping that being told now they would make the same decision they had in July to hold off from casting the spell on themselves until they absolutely had no other option.

He looked at them steadily, with his good eye at least, the other one was currently tracking the movements of a spider above him that he was a bit worried would drop down into his hair; he hated spiders. The two teens were communicating between themselves, he could see that much, but what they were saying in that bond of theirs he had no idea. When finally Harry spoke though, he let out a sigh of relief.

-:-

"No, honestly the risks are too great, we can find another way."

Harry's words were strong and he believed in them. They could find another way, they _would_, failure to do so was not an option.

"What else did you want to teach us Mad Eye, something about words of power?"

He felt like changing the subject was the best course of action, there was no point dwelling on the decision, they would live with it regardless and he was eager to learn more about what the grizzled ex auror had mentioned, they sounded intriguing.

"Aye, Words of Power, this is deep magic, reaching back to the very origins of civilization when wizards were more alike to forces of nature, when magic itself was unfettered by spells and restrictions. What I'm about to teach you is similar to sorcery, but much more dangerous, and it has to be carefully controlled, else you could lose your life in a careless act. The basic premise is a single syllable that you key to an intention, for instance."

He raised his right hand and barked out a shapeless sound, with a sharp crack a fist shaped hole appeared in the wall of the training room.

"This place is heavily warded remember, typically that spell acts like a giant jab sorcel, punching a barrel sixed hole in whatever my hand is pointing at, it's fast, brutal, and unexpected. But it takes a lot of power and focus. Dumbledore has a word of power keyed to mass obliviation; apparently he used it in the past to pacify muggle populations that had seen magic. It's imprecise though and he doesn't like to use it now that more detailed obliviation can be done. It takes longer but it's gentler on the recipient.

Anyway, between you two you probably have the power and creativity to have a tiny arsenal of these things hidden away. A final massive advantage is that they're wandless, they're less powerful as a result, but you can use them even when disarmed or tied up. To get you started I'm going to teach you one of my favourites, it taxes me to no end but you two should have no problem with it."

Harry watched as Alastor barked another shapeless command and suddenly disappeared, and reappeared instantly about ten meters to the right, he looked slightly more haggard however.

"Wandless apparition, most wizards who're in the know call it blinking for obvious reasons, it's silent, wandless, and doesn't have that awful crushing feeling, issue is that it's limited to line of sight, and you can't blink more than a few hundred meters over clear terrain. Vertically is even tougher, though for you two I imagine the rules could be bent a little.

You should each pick a different sound for each of your words of power, Dumbledore isn't sure how your bond could interact with the magic, one of you might use a word of power and both of you might end up using the magic, problematic when blinking as both of your physical bodies might end up in the same spot."

Harry looked a little green at the thought of what that would do to them, he loved Hermione, and loved being close to her, but there was such a thing as too close.

"One final thing, you can't do this silently, the word has to be spoken as you're keying the magic to intent and sound, rather than simply intent with words and wand movement to guide it. Stand up now and get some space around you."

Harry did so and saw the familiar hoop appear in front of him that he had used in apparition training.

"I want each of you to pick a sound to use, separate from each other, monosyllabic is best, and apparate into the circle, vocalising the sound as you do so, repeat this until you start saying the sound without thinking about it, at that point start trying to apparate without your wands, while saying the sound. We can work on turning it into blinking later as that takes a bit of work."

So for the next few hours Harry and Hermione trained again, it reminded them both strongly of their time during the summer and to their great happiness they both found by the end of the day that they could both apparate silently without their wands, though the horrible crushing feeling was still present. Apparently it would dissipate with practise and eventually they would be able to blink even while holding their wands by speaking the sound they chose instead of twisting on the spot.

-:-

The next morning Harry woke up, and for the first time in weeks he could move freely, and he wasn't resting in a steaming bath either; sunlight was streaming through the window and his beautiful girlfriend was wrapped around him. Hermione's bare legs brushing against his and her soft pillowy breasts sandwiching his arm. Frankly it was heavenly and he never wanted to move.

Turning his head slightly he locked eyes with Hermione and they shared a tender kiss before breaking apart slowly. The smile on her face was peaceful, knowing her she had been awake for some time and was quite content to simply watch him. Her hand stroked along his upper arm and she spoke quietly.

"It's so good to see you wake up not and not be in pain love."

His heart swelled with emotion for her and his own hand came up to cup her cheek, he simply held her like that for a moment, letting his emotions run through the link before asking softly.

"What time is it love?"

Her smile broadened

"It's around ten, plenty of time for us to get up, apparently you were very, very tired after our fun last night."

Harry couldn't help but grin and roll atop her kissing her neck and growling softly.

"I wouldn't have been so tired if you hadn't kept me up till four in the morning with that sexy mouth of yours. Did I ever end up returning you the favour last night? Or did I fall asleep like the typical man."

She grinned wryly up at him and fluttered her eyelids in an uncharacteristically feminine fashion.

"Oh you repaid the favour alright. I almost thought we were going to go all the way last night with how excited you were."

Groaning in contentment he sank down over her, careful not to rest his full weight on her body, and buried his face into the crook of her neck, breathing deep. She smelled divine.

"You spoil me sweetheart."

"No more than you spoil me love. Now come on, I want to take you into town today, and get you a new pair of dress trousers, you've near grown out of yours and I feel like treating you to something after last night."

Harry smiled into her neck

"Aren't I supposed to be the one who takes you out on the town and treats you to things?"

She took his face in her hands and brought him up so that she could fix him with a stern look.

"Harry James Potter. If I want to take you out and buy something for you, you had better just be thankful, you were magnificent last night, in more ways than one, and you deserve every good thing coming your way. You put up with so much every day just to keep me happy, and more last week, and more to the point, I want to celebrate the first pain free morning of the year for you."

He couldn't argue with that, and so it was that he allowed his girlfriend, his soul mate, his future wife, to tug him out of bed, goad him into clothes, and then poke him out the door amidst amused looks from the other family members. The day was looking up.

-:-

On a desolate hillside in the Welsh countryside the sun crested gloriously with dawn's first light. And atop that hillside was a ring of corpses. Pale skinned with light black fur adorning their upper arms and lower legs. Mouths filled with flat tombstone like teeth designed for crushing and grinding, and flaxen hair that looked to be in strips rather than strands. They were unseelie fey, winter fairies of nature, immortal and powerful. Their throats were bared and bloody, running thick with blue ichor that stained the ground for many meters in all directions.

In the middle of this abattoir of still dripping corpses, some that had obviously been dragged to the place, was a beautiful young woman, fair skinned, fair haired, with silvery grey eyes and full plump lips. A beautiful alluring body with blessed with womanly curves and flawless unblemished skin. Her lips, perfect as they were, were currently fastened to the throat of one of the corpses, and the skin of her lower jaw was stained blue.

Deep suckling sounds came from the woman's mouth as she drank greedily from the veins of the immortal creatures. The being whom she fed from raised a weak hand, the last vestiges of life in such a powerful creature, one that had lived since before the ages of men, and with a tender care that spoke of understanding shared between two souls, stroked the young woman's cheek, even as she took its life blood into herself.

She had gorged herself for hours upon these creatures, these willing victims who had gone to battle with her, love and respect in their hearts for another immortal child from the danger to life that was winter herself. When at last the Fey's hand fell limp the young woman stepped away from the body and, with a long prehensile tongue, cleaned her chin and lips, wiping them dry of any unseemly evidence.

It was not to be so simple however as her skin was dyed blue from the creature's blood, though it would wash out simply enough. She looked unfulfilled, as though the twenty litres of immortal blood that she had drained that night was not enough, and truly it wasn't. She had fully exsanguinated the corpses; any leftover was either; spillage or staining, rather than flowing fluid.

She felt powerful, alive, strong and dominant. She had travelled the length and breadth of these islands, slaughtering all manner of magical beasts and folk, her stale dry veins now thrummed with power, and though her heart had been stilled she could almost feel it racing in anticipation of what to come.

An elegant smile upon her lips she turned to the rest of the valley and gazed upon the amassed legions of the damned that her father had dredged up from all over Great Britain. There were Inferi and skeletons of all shapes and sizes, but there were also vampires, and the odd ghoul chained and caged. But the young woman knew her place, they were all lesser undead, common, filth, she was royalty. The power that thrummed in her veins was untapped as of yet, but it did enhance her natural beauty and physical abilities.

She was a god amongst the undead: A powerful, indomitable figure that oozed power and command, not to mention sensuality and kinship for the vampires. She was Nosferatu, she was their leader.

Her father had taught her as much, he had instilled in her a sense of power and purpose, he was away at the moment, travelling for his own purposes, but he had left their family under her temporary command, their _family_.

It was such a strange notion to her, family, her father was family of course, he had raised her this last year, taught her how to be strong, fast, beautiful. He had given her tools of survival and power, of advancement and beauty, and he had named her, given her purpose. He was her father and she trusted his word like it had come from her very own lips.

Her blood, stale and unmoving though it was, was rich with the blood of many other species, and now it had immortal blood too. She had thoroughly gorged herself, trying to take in as much of the magic rich blood as she could, trying to reignite her magic, her dormant powers that supposedly she had possessed once upon a time. It was hard to believe, but her father had told her, so surely it must be the truth.

He Fey had come to her of their own free will, bored of existence, and wanting to be end their time on the earth with a powerful statement they had given themselves to her, and she had taken from them eagerly.

But still she felt hollow, she always felt hollow, as if there were a vital component missing from her body, from her very soul. Not even her father could fill that void, she sometimes wished he would take her into his arms and hug her, hold her against the cold of the moors. She was tired, the constant bloodshed gnawed at her senses and though he told her she was beautiful, she felt ugly, dirty, though he told her she was powerful, she felt weak, though he told her she was royalty, she felt like scum.

For taking the lives of the innocent, and so on the top of a hill, in the middle of the Irish countryside, where the undead lay waiting in ordered ranks and file, an undead girl cried for that which she did not know she missed.

-:-

AN3: Epine's story is coming together, I wanted to show her confusion here, how she's being sent mixed signals and how she doesn't know how to deal with her existence. She's not an unthinking beast, Fleur Delacour's soul still resides within her, and it is a gentle soul. This is not the end for Epine, merely the beginning.

On a side note I wanted to work into this chapter some kind of reference to a spike of grief in Harry over the lives he and Hermione have taken, but it just didn't seem to fit, maybe later. Additionally there was originally meant to be a lot more ColdParalysed!Harry angst in this chapter but I just cut all of it out because it felt forced and like I was beating a dead horse with a rusty stick. I replaced it with nice fluffy moments instead, much better.

AN4: I'd like to point out a mistake that I made in recent chapters, I had insinuated that Pavarti originally would be the one who would be in Padma's place, and here I go mixing them up. I'll remedy the mistake in the chapters soon, but from now on Pavarti will be the name used, not Padma.

AN4: From 1969-1997 British armed forces were active within Ireland combating the IRA (Irish Republican Army), no actual bombings took place in Christmas of that year, but they do present a convenient cover story for this work of fiction. No disrespect is meant to the victims or families of victims of terrorist attacks.

AN5: Review Responses:

Whatweareafraidof: I typically don't respond to reviews to 'Deceit' anymore, but this one I felt deserved attention, not because it was worthy of replying to, but rather because it was so impossible to comprehend. I'm not even going to try to respond to your points; I'm just using your review as a showcase for what people shouldn't do when trying to argue with me. Go learn the Queen's English.

jkarr: Thank you! And thanks for taking your time to review.

Shadow Dragon: I can't honestly remember if we talked about this in PM or not, if we didn't shoot me a PM reminding me, but I do want to save a bit of space here because this AN is already quite long.

Beyondthesea: Things are ticking along slowly. You'll see some more fall out from Umbridge coming up soon, and yeah, I've always thought the image of Amelia bones given to us in canon would be a really solid minister for magic. It amuses me that people so often forget her awesome monocle in fanfics though, how could you forget that monocle?

Anotherboarduser: Thankyou! Much appreciated for both your reviews

Icysneasel: Thanks for your vote of confidence! I hope you like some of the other original (Read: modified) characters that are floating around too.

Righto, that's all for another… update? Folks, With the deadline for my _actual_ novel looming this project is being put more and more on the backburner, and it shows, I'm getting far fewer reads and reviews per chapter than I did for deceit, which saddens me somewhat, but at the end of the day I'm writing this story primarily for my own amusement, anyone else who enjoys it is just a bonus.

Tune in next time for Chapter Ten: Cornered: Where we (finally) learn a bit more about Umbridge and what Valmortis has been up to. Harry and Hermione continue with their training and the Regiment gets tested. Thanks for Reading and other Shenanigans, see you next time!

LGreymark


End file.
